


Back To You

by balfeheughlywed



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-06-30 06:51:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15746526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balfeheughlywed/pseuds/balfeheughlywed
Summary: Claire, a college senior, transfers to Scotland at the last minute to finish out her undergraduate degree after she breaks up with Frank. She meets Jamie on campus and sparks fly - and then she discovers he is the boyfriend of her new roommate, Laoghaire.





	1. took you like a shot

“Oh, come  _ on _ ,” she whimpered, gaze shifting upwards as she felt the first drop of rain hit her head, followed by an ominous clap of thunder.

Claire Beauchamp had experienced far worse adverse weather conditions than a little rain growing up with her Uncle Lamb as they moved from one remote archeological site to the next. She had no problem living what most people would consider rough; what she  _ did _ have an issue with was starting off her first day of classes at a new college soaking wet.

She mentally berated herself for leaving her umbrella back in her apartment, but she had already been running late and trying to get away from her new roommate without seeming rude had set her back an additional ten minutes.

Claire sighed, tugging her jacket tighter to her body as the rain began to fall more steadily, not even bothering to try and shield her head. Her curls were already flying haphazardly around her face; what difference would a little rain make?

She checked the watch on her left wrist, quickening her pace when she saw she only had a few minutes left to make it to her first class. Laoghaire had given her explicit directions on how to get to the science building ( _ ending with _ “ _ it’s next to the library, ken?”) _ after showing her around their newly shared home. The small blonde had been all smiles and hospitality, flitting from kitchen to living room to bathroom, before helping Claire drop the rest of her belongings into her new bedroom. “ _ I hope it won’t be an issue that my boyfriend spends time here? I’m sure the two of ye will get on just fine,” _ she had asked in a way that let Claire know she was only being polite, not really asking permission.

She had nodded her agreement before begging out the door, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding as she set off across campus. At that point, she would have said yes to just about anything the girl had asked in order to make it to class on time.

She was in such a hurry, she didn’t realize the door she was rushing past (too closely) was opening until she smacked head first into it.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” Bag, books, and coffee tumbled out of her arms as her hands went up to grip her nose. The hot liquid burned her thighs as it soaked into her jeans, droplets melting into the soft leather of her boots.

“Shit! Are ye okay?” a worried voice asked, gripping her elbows to steady her.

“I think my nose is broken,” Claire gasped, blinking rapidly to clear away the rush of moisture that had gathered in her eyes as she had collided with the door, unable to see who was holding onto her so gently.

“Nay, lass, it’s no’ broken. It makes a terrible crunching sound and ye bleed like a pig if that happens. It’s likely just bruised.”

“I suppose you have a lot of experience with breaking people’s noses then?” she asked wryly, gingerly removing her fingers from the bridge of her nose to swat at her eyes. Satisfied that the tears were kept at bay, she raised her whisky colored eyes to meet the most beautiful pair of sky blue eyes she had ever seen in her life.

She had been hit, literally and figuratively, by one of the most gorgeous men she had ever laid eyes on. He was tall ( _ why had she never noticed all other men were the size of Frodo? _ ), broad shouldered, and muscular. His jaw was square and stubbled with blonde and red hairs creeping up the sides of his high cheekbones. His forehead was crinkled with concern, strong eyebrows knit together over those slanted blue eyes, and was it just her, or had it suddenly become incredibly hot outside?

“Not anymore,” he chuckled, reaching down to gather her books for her. He must have seen the way she blanched at that, because he added hastily, “I used to play rugby.”

“I see,” Claire smiled, taking her notebooks and shoving them into her bag, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention before. I’m trying to get to my class on time,” she groaned looking down at her watch, “and I’m officially late on my first day. Great impression to make on my new professor.”

“First day, huh? Do ye ken where ye’re going? The least I can do is make sure ye dinna get lost since I almost just broke your nose. My name is Jamie, by the way,” he offered his hand out to her, and Claire took it, aware of the way his large hand engulfed her much smaller one.

“Nice to meet you, Jamie. I’m Claire. And yes… I’m just going next door here to the science building. Thank you for asking. Sorry about all of...this,” she waved vaguely between them, reluctantly pulling her hand from his.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Christ, she was beautiful, with her curly hair whipping around her face, cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

She smiled one more time at him before she turned to go, hesitating slightly, though she wasn’t sure why. Letting out an awkward laugh, she waved before stepping away, stopping to turn around when Jamie called after her, “Sassenach?”

“Yes?” What did that word even  _ mean _ ?

“Welcome to Edinburgh. I hope I’ll see ye around again.”

——————

Claire flopped back onto her bed, body aching with fatigue from the rush of her first day in a new place. Her professor had been understanding, and she had even met a couple of fellow medical students she thought she would get along with, exchanging numbers with them with the promise of getting together to study. “ _ Plus a bit of fun,” Geillis had winked. _

Laoghaire had been getting ready in the bathroom when Claire returned home, planning to head off to some event she was attending with her fellow art history students. Her mind strayed from the medical terms she should be memorizing to the way she had started off her day. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the way her skin tingled when Jamie’s hands cupped her elbows, dulling to a faded buzz and then nothingness when he pulled them away. His fathomless blue eyes, the way his hair curled around his nape, the roll of his r’s when he spoke…

The doorbell rang, bringing Claire out of her momentary stupor. “Would ye mind grabbing that, Claire?” Laoghaire appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, eyelash curler attached to her eye.

“Sure,” Claire yawned, heading towards the front door, swinging it open. She did not expect to see Jamie standing there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, rocking slightly back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Jamie?”

“Sassenach?” his smile was slightly confused. “What are ye doing here?”

“I live here. What are  _ you _ doing here? Get lost, too?” she teased.

“Er, no,” he scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m here for...”

He was cut off by Laoghaire bounding towards the front door, broad smile on her face. “Oh, good, ye two have met then!” she beamed, latching onto Jamie’s left arm with both hands. “Claire, this is my boyfriend I was tellin’ ye about earlier.”

And with the words _my_ _boyfriend_ , Claire felt something inside of her crack.


	2. thought that i could chase you with a cold evening

Claire was unsure how she had managed to keep the smile on her face at Laoghaire’s glowing introduction, but she had done it. “It’s nice to see you again, Jamie,” she said finally, standing back to let the couple into the apartment.

Laoghaire’s head tilted to the side, a look of confusion growing on her face. “Again?”

“I sort of ran into Jamie earlier on my way to class.  _ Literally _ , to be exact,” Claire gave another small smile, meeting Jamie’s eyes briefly. He was watching her in amusement, one hand resting on the small of Laoghaire’s back.

“Ye dinna look any worse for wear because of it, Sassenach. Did ye have a good first day of classes?”

“It went well. I think it’s safe to say I made the right decision in transferring here. So you two are off to a party tonight?” she changed the subject, hoping to find a way to retreat back into her room and figure out why she had such a burning knot in her stomach over a man she barely even knew.

“Aye, for one of the local galleries here in town. Jamie’s family’s company is sponsoring the event along with the university. I imagine ye’ll see us heading off to a lot of these types of parties. One of the Fraser duties and perks. It’s good practice before we graduate and Jamie takes over for his da,” Laoghaire teased, bumping Jamie’s hip lightly with her own.

Claire watched Jamie’s face tighten briefly at her words before smoothing back into an inscrutable mask. It happened so quickly she wondered if she had imagined it, until she noticed the pointer and middle fingers of his left hand tapping a staccato rhythm against his thigh. Laoghaire seemed blissfully unaware of any change in his demeanor, reaching for her clutch on the entryway table.

“Business major then?” Claire couldn’t help but ask, eyes flitting from those two tapping fingers back to Jamie’s face.

His smile didn’t even come close to meeting his eyes. “Aye. And Laoghaire tells me ye’re studying medicine?”

“Nursing, yes. I plan to apply to medical school once I’m done with this part of the program.”

“Medical school? That’s quite impressive, Sassenach.”

“Jamie, the party starts in twenty minutes,” Laoghaire nudged him, nodding towards the front door.

“Thank you, Jamie. Well, I should let you both get out of here before you’re late. Enjoy your evening.” Claire watched as Jamie escorted Laoghaire back out the front door, grabbing for the handle behind him.

Their eyes met again, whisky on blue, and she felt the pull of something she couldn’t quite define deep in her stomach, the rush of a tide she wasn’t sure she would be able to resist.

But she had to. He was her roommate’s boyfriend. He was off limits… and after Frank, she would never allow herself to become  _ that girl. _

————————

Claire quickly established a routine in her new city: classes four days a week, leaving her a three-day weekend to catch up on homework, relax a little bit, and begin to explore.

She was wandering around the far edge of the campus near the horse stables, leaning against one of the sturdy fences, breathing in the fresh Scottish air. It was a rare day of bright, continuous sunshine, one that would likely leave her skin slightly pink and tight to the touch from being outside too long. Laoghaire and Jamie had left the apartment an hour before she had (“ _ I’m draggin’ him shopping with me, I ken he hates it, but he does it anyways,” Laoghaire had said _ ), his hand on the small of her back like it had been a few days before.

An involuntary sigh escaped her lips at the thought of it, deep and long, fluttering the curls around her face. Distracted, Claire didn’t notice one of the horses that had been off in the distance was making its way over to her until she felt it’s soft, bristly hair underneath her hand.

“Well, hello there,” she murmured quietly, afraid to startle the horse. “Aren’t you a beauty?”

She stroked the nose of the horse back and forth, saying small incomprehensible things for a few minutes before a voice interrupted her ministrations, causing her to jump. “I’ve no’ seen this horse just approach a stranger before like this.”

Claire turned to see a small man watching her, hands on his hips. “No? Well, she’s absolutely beautiful. I hope it’s okay for me to touch her?”

He shrugged. “Brimstone doesna seem to mind, so I dinna, either. What’s yer name, lass?”

“Claire Beauchamp,” she reached a hand towards him, laughing when Brimstone nudged the back of her head, looking for more attention. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Yer a sassenach, then,” he said gruffly, shaking her hand firmly, eyes keeping a close watch on the horse, who was doing her best to nuzzle into Claire’s hair.

“So I’ve been told,” she said haltingly, unsure if she was being insulted or accused of something. Although he didn’t say the word with derision in his voice, it didn’t seem to hold the same playful, affectionate tone Jamie’s had ( _ playful and affectionate? Get a grip, Beauchamp _ ).

“Och, it’s no’ meant as an insult, lass,” he started walking towards the padlocked gate a few yards away, fumbling with the dozen or so keys dangling from his belt. “No’ to  _ you _ , anyways. Come, ye can help me rub Brimstone down if ye have time.”

“Do you always let students help you with the horses?” she followed behind him, waiting as he locked the gate behind them.

“Nay,” he said simply, motioning for Claire to follow him to the stables.

He walked around gathering supplies before handing a firmly bristled brush to Claire, motioning towards the dark, gleaming horse. “Do ye have much experience wi’ horses, lass?”

“No,” she answered honestly, watching as Alec began to comb Brimstone’s coat, mimicking his actions. “I’ve ridden a few times, but that was quite a while ago. I was taking a walk around campus and ended up stopping to watch the horses before you found me. Am I doing this right?”

“Aye. Keep goin’ while I get some of this hay changed out,” he limped away from the stall, Claire watching with keen interest, never stopping her long, slow brush strokes.

“Are you in charge of other grounds around the campus?”

“I tend to parts of the rugby field and stadium, too,” he said, “though I dinna enjoy that as much as I do this.” He paused what he was doing to rub at his hip, trying to work out an invisible kink only he could feel. 

“I could probably help you with that,” Claire nodded towards his hip. “Arthritis, I’m assuming? Obviously medication helps the most, but I’m sure I could come up with an ointment for you to rub in, get some relief.” At his suspicious look, she smiled. “I’m a medical student.”

He grunted at that. “Good wi’ horses and smart, too, aye?”

“What can I say? I am an unusual lady,” Claire winked, laughing when that earned her a small smile. “It would really be no bother. I would like to help if I can.”

“Thank ye, lass. That would be kind of ye,” he handed her an apple, motioning towards the horse.

Claire bit down on her bottom lip as she rolled the apple between her hands, wondering if she should try her luck or not. She decided it was worth a shot, looking back at him over her shoulder as she fed Brimstone. “Alec, about the rugby stadium…”

—————

_ Solitude _ . Claire could practically feel it from where she was standing. She grabbed the small key from out of her back pocket, fitting it into the lock before turning it, smiling to herself when she heard the successful click that meant it had worked.

She slipped past the tall security gate, closing it gently behind her, taking care to make as little noise as possible. Alec had taken a risk giving her access like this, and they both knew it. As she walked towards a set of stairs that would take her to her destination, she made a mental note to send him some type of thank you.

Claire’s hand trailed along the rail as she climbed the stairs, fingers sliding over the cool metal frame. She didn’t stop until she made it to the very top, inhaling deeply as she looked out over the brick and concrete wall. Her waist was bent forward, chin cupped by one hand, elbows resting on the solid surface.

She could see a large expanse of the campus from this vantage point. It was beautiful; a combination of different storied buildings and trees, lush green broken up with both cobbled and concrete sidewalks, monuments and architecture honoring Scotland’s history. Looking up, she found the sight she had been craving: an endless black, dotted with sparkling, glittering stars.

She was so lost in the serenity of the moment, she didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind her. She nearly fell over when she heard the clearing of another person’s throat, letting out a shriek as she whirled around, one hand coming up to clutch at her chest.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!”

“Nay, Sassenach, just me.”

_ Jamie _ .

“Wha- what are you doing here?” she breathed out, hand sliding up closer to her throat as her chest continued to heave from the fright he had given her.

“I could ask ye the same thing, no? Standing at the top of the rugby stadium alone at night? How did ye get in here?”

“I—,” she broke off abruptly, lips pursing slightly as she contemplated how to answer his question without lying. “Well, that’s really none of your business, is it? Perhaps I got in the same way you did.”

“So ye scaled the fence? Quite a feat for such a small thing like yerself.”

“Small thing?” she repeated indignantly.

“I didna mean in spirit,” he teased, lips curling slightly as he took in her scowling face. “Are ye going to answer my question?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, heart pounding erratically in her chest ( _ from his presence, now, not panic _ ). “Did you really scale the fence?”

He laughed out loud at that, and she could feel a deep warmth blooming in her belly, spreading up her chest at the sound. “No, Sassenach. I have a key. Did  _ you _ ?”

“I did. I’ll have you know I’m very flexible.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back.  _ I’m very flexible? Oh my god! _

Jamie tilted his head slightly to the side, one eyebrow raising as he watched her cheeks flush, his mouth curling into a smile that he couldn’t stop.  _ Christ, this woman. _

“I didn’t mean - ugh,” Claire muttered, rolling her eyes at herself, shaking her head a little when Jamie started to chuckle. “I actually sweet talked Old Alec into giving me a key. I  _ am _ flexible, but probably not  _ that _ much. And certainly not with him. Oh my god, what am I saying?”

“Mmphmm,” he made a small sound deep in his throat (amused,  _ beautiful _ ) that could only be described as  _ Scottish _ to her rambling. “I ken Alec well. How on God’s green earth did ye sweet talk him into doing  _ anything _ ?”

Claire took a step down, sitting in one of the blue stadium seats, Jamie choosing the one next to her. “I decided to walk around campus earlier today. I wound up at the stables and one of the horses there took a liking to me. I suppose that meant I was trustworthy enough, because Alec let me help him with some of his work, and next thing you know… here we are.”

“Well ye’ve shocked me for the second time tonight, Sassenach. Alec doesna get on with most students.”

“And did he also supply your clandestine key to this place?”

“I told ye I used to play rugby, remember? The coach has a soft spot for me still. Alec knows I come here at night sometimes, but he doesna mind. I’m good with horses, too,” he smiled, bumping her shoulder with his own.

“Mm, good at rugby, good with horses… you’re the exact stereotype of Scottish men I was imagining when I applied to transfer here,” Claire teased.

His eyes brightened at that, his body shifting slightly to angle towards her. “Oh, aye? Is that why ye transferred here then?”

Claire paused for a moment, eyes flickering down to her hands. “I needed a change,” she answered honestly. “I was attending school in London. My uncle retired from the university recently and moved away. Between that and…”  _ Frank and his mistress _ , she wanted to say, but didn’t, shaking her head slightly at the memory of him. “It just felt like the right time to move away. I wanted a fresh start in a new place. No expectations of what being Lambert Beauchamp’s niece meant. No one trying to mold me into someone or something I’m not. The Scottish men are just an added bonus.”

He looked at her in amusement, before his face grew serious. “I ken what that’s like.” His eyes were unfocused, looking off into the distance. She could tell there was more he wanted to say, but she didn’t press, leaning back against her seat, eyes following the stars that stuttered and blinked back.

“Why the rugby field?”

“What?” Claire asked.

“If yer like me, ye came here to get away. Why here?”

“Is this like a game of ‘get to know you’ because we have Laoghaire and the apartment in common now?”

“It’s got nothing to do with her.”

Their eyes locked, and she could feel the beat of her heart pumping faster against her ribcage, her pulse beginning to race like they were in competition to cross some unknown finish line. Her throat was dry as she tried to swallow, voice just barely shaky as she said, “You first.”

Her words received that slow, one sided curl of his lips again. “I played rugby my whole life. I dinna want to come across as sounding…  _ full of myself, _ but I was really good at it. I loved the feeling it gave me; the anticipation of knowing how it would feel when the ball was in my hands, the rush of making a tackle or scoring a goal. Knowing that even though I couldna predict the outcome, I was in charge of the mechanics of my own body. Playing was freedom. When I got hurt and had to stop, it felt like I lost a piece of myself.”

She watched him as he spoke, the way his forehead would crease together as the words came out, somehow making him look younger in his contemplation. The way his hands moved in front of him, as if he was remembering the feel of the leather between them. Firm. Consistent. Powerful.

Jamie met her eyes, rueful smile on his face. “That probably sounds daft.”

“No.  It doesn’t. That’s how I feel about medicine, when I work with a patient and place my hands on them. There’s...liberation in knowing the control I have.”

Jamie let out a sharp breath, like something he had been holding in for a long time was finally starting to be released.  _ Relief _ . “Aye. And even though I canna play anymore, I still come here looking for something. Maybe it’s that feeling again...of being in control of myself. No expectations from others, either.”

Claire hummed at that, stretching her legs out on the back of the chair in front of her. “My parents died when I was a little girl. My Uncle Lamb was an archeologist and we traveled all the time. I didn’t have what most people would consider a “ _normal_ _childhood_.” Mine was spent in deserts, and forests, and remote areas, digging for artifacts with adults. I was the only child around. But sometimes when Lamb would take a break from work, we would fly to London for a few days and he would take me to a rugby game. I would look around and see parents there with their children, wearing matching jerseys with their faces painted. They would have candy and souvenirs and I would be _so jealous_ because they were so normal and lucky and they didn’t even know it. To them, it was just another day, another treat they got from their parents. Ever since then, I’ve had a thing about rugby stadiums.”

She looked at Jamie, the half-moon casting a shadow that fell on part of his face. “And from here, at the top of the stadium, you have a perfect view of the stars. It’s a good place to think. I’m sorry I stole your secret spot from you.”

“Dinna be sorry, Sassenach. I’m glad ye were here.”

Quiet stretched between them, Claire keeping her eyes focused on the stars. She couldn’t look at him again. She knew if she did, something inside of her would continue to crack open, a bleeding mix of  _ want _ and  _ need _ for a man she couldn’t have in any way.

He broke the silence between them, memorizing her profile from the side, considering. “No one knows I come here, ken? It’s no’ something I’ve shared with anyone else before.”

She was quiet for a moment, then turned to him against her better judgment, against everything that was screaming inside of her that to look at him in this moment was to make a decision, one that would irrevocably alter both of them. “Not even Laoghaire?”

She wouldn’t have been able to look away from him in that moment even if she wanted to.

“No.”

Blue stayed on whisky, and she felt something shift on its axis.

It was the first time the decision was made between them without words to keep a secret, something that was only for the two of them.

It wouldn’t be the last. 


	3. and every time we talk, every single word builds up to this moment

Claire scrolled aimlessly through the contacts in her phone, only half-focusing on the information her professor was giving the class about their upcoming clinical rotations. She lingered for a moment over Frank’s name, remembering the way he had so smoothly asked for her number a few years back - all polished refinement and confidence, as if it was an impossibility that any young student her age would be unimpressed by a stately, slightly older professor such as himself.

Frowning slightly, she clicked on his name, on the number she had memorized so long ago. He had been right, of course; she had been taken in by his charm, by the way he seemed so different than the boys her own age. He didn’t chug beers at parties or drunkenly hit on women in bars, slurring pick up lines in her ear that usually ended with a threat of disembowelment if she wasn’t left alone.

No, he was romantic dinners at expensive restaurants; chilled bottles of wine and an occasional stage play; weekend days spent at a history museum, where he explained in great detail about the Jacobites of Scotland and the Uprising of ‘45 that eventually left their culture decimated into nothing more than a film of dust in the pages of history books.

He was attentive; perhaps a bit too focused on history and his interest in the subject he taught to countless college students, but Claire always thought that was part of his charm. He was  _ devoted  _ (in all aspects of life, or so she believed). She knew their relationship wasn’t perfect; towards the end when her uncle was getting ready to retire and move away, when she was swamped with school work and her desire to earn her own place in the world (and not because of the Beauchamp name), things had started to shift between them. Frank simply didn’t like feeling that he wasn’t Claire’s whole world. Sex became less frequent, less inspiring ( _ as if he hadn’t been selfish in that area to begin with _ ) until it started to feel like a chore.

Still, Claire never expected to walk into his office unannounced one afternoon to see a woman close to her own age, if not a little younger, laid out across his desk, papers strewn across the edge and over the floor. She could still distinctly remember the way her long blonde locks had been mussed around her face, fanning out against the dark, cherry red wood, her cheeks flushed, mouth open as if she had been about to moan.

He was a  _ cheater _ .

He had a  _ mistress. _

Frown deepening on her face at the memory, she moved the screen down before pressing the delete button, relief flooding through her chest when he floated out of her phone, the same way he had floated out of her life ( _ unknowingly at first, without regard for her feelings or dreams or plans, then deliberately, the closing of a book with a plot that led nowhere but disappointment _ ).

She shifted in her seat, sighing quietly as she continued her aimless wandering through her contacts. Her finger paused just above Joe Abernathy’s entry, unconsciously moving back and forth over his name.  _ Jamie Fraser. _

Heat bloomed in her cheeks as she remembered a few nights before at the rugby field, the moment just before they had both gotten up from their seats to head home for the night. They had both been quiet after he admitted that Laoghaire didn’t know he went there as an escape, both watching the stars, arms so close that if one of them had shifted even a centimeter more, they would have been touching from wrist to elbow. His long legs, muscles firm and sure and  _ obvious _ even underneath the thick material of his jeans, were stretched out in front of him, and she wondered how it would feel if they were tangled together, her slender, feminine limbs tucked over and in between his.

He had turned to her then and she had flushed, wondering (f _oolishly, almost hopefully_ ) if what she was thinking about was written clearly on her face. There was a glint in his eyes ( _those_ _beautiful, clear, endless blue eyes_ ) as one ruddy eyebrow quirked up. “I need yer phone, Sassenach.”

“My phone?” she repeated, surprise etched in her tone. “What do you need my phone for?”

“Well,” he began seriously, shifting more so that he was turned completely into her, the toes of his tennis shoes knocking against her own, one knee just barely brushing up against her, denim touching denim. “Ye may come here one night on yer own and find that the concession stand is closed, ken? Someone may need to bring ye some popcorn.”

Claire narrowed her eyes at him, which only made his open wider in mock innocence. “Hmm,” she intoned, tilting her head to the side as she pretended to consider his words. “That would certainly be a problem.”

“Aye, it would. How can ye stargaze if ye dinna have snacks?”

“How indeed?” she repeated, trying to contain the smile that was starting to curl the corners of her mouth up. “But the real question is, would the popcorn come with Milk Duds?”

“Milk Duds? What the hell are Milk Duds?”

“The most delicious American candy you’ll ever eat. They’re little gobs of chewy, sticky, messy caramel covered in cheap chocolate. They’re delicious. They pair nicely with a large bucket of popcorn, extra salt, among other flavors.”

“Christ, Sassenach. Aren’t ye supposed to be studying to be a doctor? How can ye eat garbage like that?”

“I’ll have you know I find plenty of ways to work it off,” she huffed back, cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink when he raised his eyebrows at her, amused once more by her unintended innuendo. “Jesus H. Christ, why do I keep saying these things?”

“I guess I ken how to bring out the dirty side in ye.”

She could tell the words came out of his mouth without thought; Claire felt the smile bloom slowly on her face, watching  _ his _ cheeks now flush with embarrassment. She was delighted to see that the tips of his ears were beginning to turn pink, the color running down the sides of his neck, reaching the curls along the collar of his jacket. The urge to push him further, to see where this banter would lead was strong, but she reached for her phone instead, holding it out to him in the palm of her hand. He took it without hesitation, his fingers brushing over hers before sweeping across the fleshy part of her palm. He looked inexplicably pleased with himself as he typed away, handing it back to her once she was done.

Still smiling, she pulled up the J’s, her lip tucking between her teeth as she saw his name there. “Jamie Fraser. I’ll try not to lose it,” she teased, motioning for his own phone. She entered her name and number before handing it back to him, and he grabbed it, fingertips lingering.  

“Popcorn and Milk Duds, then?”

“Aye, Sassenach. Popcorn and Milk Duds.”

Her finger stopped its back and forth motion over his name, simply touching it now, like the memory of their meeting at the rugby stadium was somehow contained within the entry of those letters ( _ J a m i e F r a s e r _ ) on her phone. She didn’t realize how lost in thought she was until Geillis nudged her, red eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.

“Are ye having a stroke?”

“What?”

“Are ye having a stroke?” she repeated. “Because ye should be taking notes, pretending to be interested in where ye’re going to be spending the next several weeks, and instead ye look like yer frozen. I wasna sure if yer left side was beginning to go slack and ye needed to go to the hospital.”

Claire rolled her eyes, setting her phone to the side and picking up her pen. “No, I’m not having a  _ stroke _ , Geillis. I was just distracted. I’m not anymore.”

“Oh, and what were ye distracted by?” she asked, snatching Claire’s phone and touching the screen before it could lock. A smirk spread across her face as she looked at the contact list. “And who is  _ Jamie Fraser _ ?”

Claire fought to keep her face neutral. “He’s no one. Give that back to me.”

“Ye’re a terrible liar, Claire Beauchamp. Everything ye’re thinking and feeling shows plain as day on yer face. Who is he?”

She let out a muffled laugh, shaking her head at herself. “My roommate’s boyfriend.”

Geillis opened her mouth to say something, then shut it, green eyes focused intently on Claire’s now dejected form slumped over her desk, forehead resting in the palms of her hands, fingers tangling in her curls. “Well boyfriend isna husband,” she said finally, nudging Claire with her arm. “Buck up, Beauchamp.”

\----------

Claire usually spent time in between her two Thursday classes at the library, tucked away in a quiet nook on the third floor where she could spread her books out across a table and work, unrestricted and unbothered. Today, however, she had made her way across campus to deliver a small jar of ointment for Alec as promised, which had set her back several minutes. She was moving quickly back to the science building, hoping to catch her professor before her class started.

Walking past the side door of the library, rifling through papers, she glanced up when she heard her name being called. Laoghaire and Jamie were walking towards the building, hands loosely tangled together. She forced a smile on her face and waved casually to them, pointing towards her destination, mouthing “sorry!” before picking up her pace.

She swung the door open in front of her, taking a moment once inside to steady herself against the sturdy brick wall. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do about this weird ( _ and rapidly all-consuming _ ) crush she had on Jamie, but annoying herself by seeing him with his girlfriend was not her preferred option at the moment.

She spoke with her professor briefly about an upcoming paper she had due, then settled into her desk, determined to stay focused this time. Her phone lit up just as she tossed it into the front pocket of her book bag, and she hesitated when she saw the message on the screen.

_ hi sassenach _ .

Damn it. She closed her eyes and took a breath before she opened them again, focusing on her notebook. She would not give her phone ( _ him, Jamie) _ any attention while she was in class. She began scribbling down notes, trying to keep up as her professor lectured. She could see the glow from her screen again out of the corner of her eye. Mentally cursing herself for her weakness, she reached down and snatched it out of her bag.

_ how’s class? _

She typed quickly, setting the phone in her lap when she was done.

_ stimulating...if i wasn’t trying to take notes i would come up with a good central nervous system joke for you ;) _

Three little bubbles popped up at the bottom.

_ oh, aye? good thing i’m not too busy. you ready? _

She couldn’t help the smile that was starting to form when she looked down.

_ lay it on me. _

_ what did the hippocampus say during its retirement speech? _

Three more bubbles popped up instantly.

_ thanks for the memories. _

Claire snorted, trying to turn it into a cough when the student next to her shot her a dirty look, rolling their eyes at her hacking. She tapped with one hand.

_ i didn’t know you were such a comedian. your talent is endless, mr. fraser. here i was thinking you had asked for my number just to be my personal popcorn stand. _

_ popcorn is always on the menu whenever you want it to be. _

She stared at the phone in her lap, unsure of what to say back to him. She wondered if he was texting her with Laoghaire sitting next to him, if she knew her boyfriend was pulled towards Claire as she was towards him. Then, unbidden, the thought came: was this the way it had started with Frank and the blonde? Had she lingered after one of his lectures to ask him a question? Had Frank,  _ devoted _ teacher that he was, offer her his number in case she had further inquiries once she was home? Had their text messages started off innocuously, innocently?

Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. Why did this feel like another decision was being made?

_ don’t forget the milk duds. _

Jamie was not Frank.

And she was not an ordinary blonde.

—————

Another week of classes finished, Claire collapsed onto the couch in her living room, exhausted. There was nothing more she wanted to do than curl up with a cup of tea, her thick chenille toss blanket, and Netflix. She had peeled her jeans and jacket off in her bedroom, changing into a pair of soft joggers, hair piled haphazardly on the top of her head.

She turned on an episode of The Office, reaching for her bowl of candy sitting on the table. She shifted around on the couch until she finally found a comfortable position, sighing blissfully as she pulled the blanket up around her chin. If she was still awake in ten minutes, she would be shocked.

The shrill ring of the doorbell made her fluttering eyes fly wide open. Claire waited for a few moments, hoping whoever was at the door would think no one was home and leave. She groaned when the doorbell rang again, throwing the blanket off of her to get up and answer the door. Perhaps Laoghaire had forgotten her keys (she had been rushing around to leave for another party when Claire returned home), and needed to pick something up.

Her thick, fuzzy socks slid against the floor as she reached for the lock on the door. She tugged her sleeves down over her hands against the slight chill as it opened, eyes lifting to meet a pair that were becoming all too familiar to her.

_ Jamie. _

“This feels like deja vu.” He was leaning against the door jam, arms crossed across his chest, one ankle tucked over the other as a crooked smile appeared on his face.

She smiled back, her own body leaning against the partially opened door, one hand planted on her waist. “At least this time I know better than to ask if you got lost.”

That earned her a laugh. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” she said, stepping back to let him enter the apartment. “But Laoghaire’s not here. She left a little while ago for a party. I assumed she was going to meet you.”

His brow furrowed, confusion etching his face. “No, she didn’t leave to meet me. I didna know she was even going to a party tonight. She told me to come by at seven.”

Claire shifted back and forth, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. The last thing she wanted was to place herself between the two of them. “Oh. I’m sorry. She was in a hurry, so maybe it was a last minute thing…” she trailed off, no longer meeting his eyes.

“God forbid she miss a party,” he muttered, jamming his hands into his pockets. He looked up when Claire said nothing, his face immediately softening. “I’m sorry, lass. This isna your problem.”

“No need to apologize,” Claire reached out and briefly touched his forearm, squeezing gently before letting go. “If you want, I can tell her you stopped by when she gets home.”

“Nah, I can just text her later. I didna mean to interrupt yer evening.”

Claire scoffed, hand waving in the air at his words. “I was half-asleep on the couch watching The Office. You didn’t interrupt a thing.”

“The Office?” His face brightened and he peered around the corner into the living room, chuckling when he saw the television screen. “Is this the episode where Michael runs over Meredith with his car?”

“Yes,” Claire laughed. “How did you know?”

“Only because I’ve seen this episode about a dozen times. My brother-in-law and I spent an entire holiday break one year watching this show. My sister wanted to kill us both by the time Christmas break was over.”

“Do you want to stay and watch?” The words came out of Claire’s mouth without thought, and she could feel her cheeks begin to turn red.

If Jamie noticed, he didn’t say anything; instead, his body seemed to relax and he shrugged out of his jacket before toeing his shoes off, kicking them to the side. “Aye, Sassenach, I’d love that. Are ye sure ye dinna mind?”

“Not at all.”

They both curled up on the couch, Claire back into the middle nook where the corners of the sectional met, Jamie on one end, his long legs and feet nearly nudging her own. She wound the blanket back around her, pressing play on the remote, letting the sounds of the television fill the comfortable silence between them.

She quickly discovered that Jamie had a habit of quoting lines from the show along with the characters, his attempt at an American accent ( _ terrible, and charming for it _ ) on full display. She couldn’t help the full belly laugh that came bubbling out when he turned to look at her for the second time, deadpan, as if she was the camera man, his eyes sparkling.

“Are you being Jim right now?”

“Aye,” he laughed. “Dinna ye see the resemblance?”

“Hmm,” she pretended to consider him, eyes looking at the screen and then back to him. “Well, you’re both very tall. Lots of hair. Both of you have, or will have, business degrees. He thinks he’s very witty...as do you, I can tell,” she teased.

He made that Scottish noise she was coming to love, turning back to the show. “You can be my Pam,” he said, reaching forward to steal some candy from her bowl, popping a few pieces in his mouth.

She shot him a look, wondering if he realized what he had just implied. “Looking for a partner in crime, are you?”

He gave her a long look, one that had her swallowing hard and pulling the blanket more tightly against her. His eyes darkened just slightly as they met her own, and he seemed to be weighing different options in his mind, as if he had to pick between two roads to travel down. “That’s what Jenny calls Ian,” he said finally, his two fingers tapping lightly against his thigh.

Claire noticed his movement,  _ a tell _ , and decided to tread lightly, unsure of which path Jamie wanted to take. “Is Jenny your sister?”

“Aye. She’s older than me by about two years. She and Ian live back home, at Lallybroch. They’re expecting their second bairn soon.”

“Lallybroch,” Claire repeated, trying the name out herself. It sounded like music coming from Jamie’s tongue, evoking images of rolling hills and trickling rivers, something so quintessentially  _ Scottish _ that she suddenly felt nostalgic for a place she had never even heard of before. “That’s a beautiful name.”

“It’s a bonny place, Sassenach. It’s been in my family for generations, ken?”

“And is Jenny your only sibling?”

Jamie’s face darkened briefly. “Aye. I had an older brother, William, but he died when I was a child.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, “I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a sibling.”

He gave her a small smile, his head resting against the back cushion of the couch. “It wasna easy. I still miss Willie, but I had Jenny growing up, even if she drove me crazy most of the time. She still does, actually. And you, Sassenach?”

Her own head fell back against the cushions, curls escaping from her bun and falling into her eyes. “I was an only child. My Uncle Lamb never married or had any children of his own after my parents died. Home for me was my suitcase because we traveled so much. We didn’t really settle down anywhere until I was 18 and Lamb decided it was time for me to have a  _ proper _ educational setting. He started teaching and I started studying medicine.”

“And ye didna want to follow in his footsteps? He wasna disappointed ye chose a different path?”

She thought for a moment, lips pursing slightly. “I think he would have loved for me to become an archeologist like he was. But he saw me as I was growing up, planting and digging up different plants and roots, cutting and smashing them together, trying to find out what their purposes were and how they could benefit people who were ill. He loved me enough to know that his dreams weren’t mine, that I was my own person and needed to follow what was in my heart, what would make me feel fulfilled.”

“Sounds like he only wants the best for ye.” There was something faintly  _ bitter _ to Jamie’s tone, to the way his eyes had gone unfocused as he stared past Claire, something brewing inside of him that only he could see and feel.

She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to decide if she should press him on whatever was clearly bothering him. She glanced away from his face only when the television screen went black, the “are you still watching?” message appearing, waiting for an answer.

“I didn’t realize we had been talking for so long already.” She leaned forward to grab the remote from the coffee table, letting out a loud yelp when she sat back, feeling a pair of long (incredibly  _ cold _ ) feet sliding under her pajama pants. She looked over to Jamie in shock, her mouth hanging open. “Are you  _ burrowing _ under me right now?”

His grin was instantaneous ( _ mischievous, not the least bit sorry _ ) as he scooted closer to her, stealing part of her blanket. “Aye, lass, I am. I’m cold and ye look warm and cozy over here.”

“Ugh, you’re a thief with freezing feet,” she whined, trying to squirm away from the two ice blocks, but it only made Jamie laugh and move closer, wiggling his toes for good measure. “Huge ones, no less.”

“That’s what she said.”

Claire stopped wriggling away, mouth dropping open slightly as she met his sly grin. She burst out laughing and found she couldn’t stop, which seemed to both amuse and slightly embarrass Jamie.

“Are ye laughing at me?”

“Yes, I most certainly am,” she giggled, wiping at her eyes. “Smooth Michael Scott line there, Mr. Fraser. I was going to let you choose what we watch next, but just for that, I think I’ll decide. Maybe you’d like to watch a classic movie like The Princess Diaries.”

“I’m no’ watching a chick flick about a teenager with a fat cat who becomes a princess of a fictional country famous for its cheese, Sassenach. Give me the remote.”

Claire held the remote away from his outstretched hand, trying (but failing) to suppress a snort. “You seem to know an awful lot about the plot from this  _ chick flick _ of a movie.”

“I told ye I have a sister,” he grumbled, grabbing for the remote. “Now give that to me or else ye’ll have to suffer the consequences.”

“Oh really?” she quirked one eyebrow at him, now holding it over her head.

He met her head on, face deadly serious. “Really. This is yer last chance, Sassenach.”

“You don’t scare me, James Fraser.”

Their eyes were locked on each other’s, whiskey on blue, neither aware of the fact that they were steadily moving closer to each other. Jamie’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, his head tilting just slightly, like a cat stalking his prey. Claire watched his eyes travel from her arm still stretched above her head, to the remote clutched tightly in her hand, and back down again to her eyes.

She realized how much of a disadvantage she was at, huddled in the center nook of the couch, legs burrowed underneath a blanket, arm dangling at an awkward angle above her, while this giant of a man looked over her at the same time he decided to jump and grab for the remote.

She tried to roll onto her side, letting out a shriek as she fell forward, holding onto it for dear life with both hands now, knees colliding with his stomach as he pried her hands apart, Jamie letting out an  _ oof  _ as the breath rushed out of his mouth at the contact.

He snatched the remote from her easily, tossing it over his shoulder onto a couch cushion as his fingers now poked and squeezed at her sides, tickling her without mercy. Claire gasped for air between peals of laughter, trying her hardest to poke back at him, her protestations lost in the sound of their laughter.

“Do ye give up?” he asked, pausing momentarily, his big hands splayed over her hips, thumbs resting on the curve of her waist. He had one knee on either side of her body, pressing against her thighs, locking her in place between him.

“I do,” she wheezed seriously, trying to catch her breath. “Scout’s honor!” He looked suspicious but sat back so she could sit up, tugging her shirt back into place as she did so. She took a deep breath, smiling at Jamie and his flushed face, both of them letting out a chuckle at their matching pink cheeks.

Claire exhaled slowly, her cheeks hurting in the most delicious way from laughing. “Hey Jamie?”

“Hey Sassenach?” His head was turned away from her as he groped for the remote, which he grabbed with a triumphant noise.

“I have a confession.”

“What kind of confession?” he asked, distracted as he fumbled with the buttons.

“I lied,” she said, “I don’t give up!”

She stretched across him then, knocking the remote out of his hand, cursing out loud when it tumbled with a clank against the table before falling to the carpet out of reach. She bent forward to try and grab it, but Jamie was quicker, latching onto her arms and yanking her back up towards him, sending her body flying into his lap.

She was giggling again as she pulled back slightly, the sound dying on her lips when she realized how close they were. Their faces were mere centimeters apart, chests heaving and nearly touching. His hands were wrapped around her wrists, gentle but firm at the same time, caught between their two bodies.

Claire swallowed hard, raising her head slowly to meet Jamie’s eyes. He was staring at her intently, his eyes lowering to her lips, which she licked unconsciously. Tentatively, her body acting on its own, she brought a hand to rest on his chest, her fingers curving gently over the taut muscles there.

He let out a shaky breath at the contact ( _ her touch on him, the rush of a sudden blaze _ ), and raised his eyes back up to hers. One of his hands reached out to tenderly push a few stray curls out of her face, tucking them behind her ear before his fingers curled and curved down her neck, tangling into her hair. She leaned into his touch, her own sigh rattling her body, eyes fluttering closed.

“Claire,” he said it so quietly ( _ a plea _ ) that she barely heard him, but she did. Her eyes slowly opened back up to his, hooded and dark blue with desire. She swayed into him, foreheads now touching, both of his hands sliding back up to gently cup her face, thumbs caressing the apples of her cheekbones.

She rubbed her nose against his, her own hands moving up against his chest to his neck, gooseflesh rippling on his skin underneath her touch. They both moved to close the distance between their mouths at the same time when the creak and slam of the front door rang out like a gunshot, leaving them scrambling back from each other.

Stunned, Claire’s head whipped around to see Laoghaire walking into the living room, high heels causing her to barely sink into the soft carpet, her hands pulling down on the hem of her tight black dress.

She stopped short when she saw Jamie on the couch next to Claire, her eyes squeezing shut, the heel of one hand pressing against them. “Jamie, I didna remember to text ye and tell ye I had to go to a gallery opening last minute. I’m so sorry.”

She reached out for him, resting her hands on his shoulders. Claire watched him flinch at the contact before he swallowed hard and coughed, trying to clear his throat. “It’s fine,” he finally managed to get out, standing up and shrugging Laoghaire’s hands off of him as he did so. “Claire was nice enough to let me crash her movie night. It’s getting late though, so I should probably get going home.”

“But we havena had a chance to catch up on our days,” she frowned, looking slightly annoyed.

“Aye, well, if ye hadna run off to another  _ event _ , maybe we would have had time for that,” he snapped, running a hand through his hair.

“I—,” Laoghaire opened her mouth furiously, before seeming to remember Claire was still in the room with them. She clenched her jaw together before shooting a tight smile in her direction.

Claire took the out, standing up quickly, avoiding eye contact with either of them, though she could feel Jamie’s lingering stare. “You know, I’ve had a long day so I’m going to head to bed. You guys are welcome to the television. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

She had to move past Jamie to get around the couch, sucking in a breath as she did so. She kept her eyes downcast, giving Laoghaire a small smile before shutting herself in her bedroom, nearly collapsing against the other side of the door once it was closed.

Her chest was still heaving, and her skin still burned from where he had touched her.

She wondered if it would leave a mark.


	4. i want to hold you when i'm not supposed to

He had left the apartment not even ten minutes after Claire had collapsed against the door in her bedroom.

She felt incapable of movement as she stood there, eyes closed, cheeks flushed and skin still tingling from his touch, from what _almost_ _was_. She knew she should feel relieved that Laoghaire had come home when she did; after all, she was Jamie’s girlfriend, and she ( _Claire_ ) was not.

But all she felt was bitter disappointment, the anticipatory high of feeling his lips on hers still rushing through her blood, marking her and changing her from the inside out ( _ a transfusion that felt life saving, one she didn’t know she had needed until it was almost too late _ ). She finally moved away from the door and into her bed when Jamie and Laoghaire’s voices, which had been hushed and restrained, began to grow heated and clipped.

Covers drawn over her head, she heard the front door open and close firmly, Laoghaire’s sniffling and frustrated sigh moving past Claire’s bedroom door and behind her own. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying sleep would come and a dreamless night of rest would provide her with answers to a problem (Jamie, Laoghaire, a _ them  _ versus an _ us _ ) she didn’t know how to solve.

Instead, over an hour later she found herself staring at the ceiling in her bedroom, one arm flung over her forehead. She turned to the side when the glow of her phone screen illuminated her dark bedroom, fumbling with one hand before pulling it towards her.  

_ are you awake? _

A small, almost strangled laugh left her lips, tears springing to the corners of her eyes for reasons she couldn’t define (didn’t  _ want _ to define). Claire shook her head, listening to the beat of her own heart inside her eardrums, a  _ thrum thrum thrum  _ that spelled his name.

_ yes _ .

She hit the little arrow to send the message.

Three little dots appeared and then disappeared. Still, the  _ thrum thrum thrum  _ of him ran through her as she waited, knowing he would say something, anything to fill the space ( _ physical, now emotional) _ that was gaping between them. Her phone lit back up.

_ are you okay? _

Was she okay with knowing she ( _ they _ ) had nearly kissed him? That if Laoghaire hadn’t come home, if the door to the apartment hadn’t opened and closed on that moment, that  _ almost _ , another one would have opened in its place that they wouldn’t be able to come back from? Like Alice tumbling down that rabbit hole, she would have fallen head first into  _ him, _ both blackness and infinite possibility awaiting.

Her fingers tapped against the glass screen.

_ yes. are you? _

_ yes _ .

Another bubble popped up immediately, then stalled. Claire waited, knowing whatever came next needed to come from him.

_ are you sorry? _

_ are you? _

She bit down on her bottom lip, heart beating wildly.

His answer came right away.

_ no _ .

A skip between those thrums, before she typed back to him.

_ me neither. _

_ ___________ _

“And then he actually told me the rumors are true about what Scots wear under their kilts, like I’m no’ a Scot myself, and he winked at me in the bar,” Geillis rolled her eyes in disgust, hands moving in the air as she continued to regale Claire with tales of her weekend date. She declared it yet another disaster, and Claire laughed, playfully bumping her shoulder with her own.

“Maybe you need to stop going to the same bar and try someplace else. The universe is clearly trying to send you a message.”

“Mmm,” Geillis considered, making a face at the suggestion. “Anyway, what did ye do this weekend? Ye were fair fashed leaving class last week, did ye go straight home and pass out?”

Claire shrugged nonchalantly, pulling the door open so Geillis could pass through first, both of them blinking at the stream of rare sunshine that hit their eyes. “I watched Netflix and worked on homework. Nothing exciting at all.”

She looked up to find a pair of green eyes narrowed at her, suspicion lining Geillis’ face. “What aren’t ye telling me?”

“Nothing,” she scoffed, mentally rolling her eyes at herself at how clearly defensive she sounded.

“Right,” Geillis drawled out slowly, head tilting to the side as she continued to stare at Claire. “And does this ‘ _ nothing _ ’ have something to do with Jamie Fraser?”

Claire did roll her eyes this time, a sharp exhale coming out at her question. “Why would you assume it had anything to do with him?”

“Probably because he’s heading our direction, and I dinna think he’s a two cups of coffee kind of man,” she retorted, a smirk spreading across her face. “This will be fun.”

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” Claire whispered, heat beginning to warm her cheeks. “Just...don’t say a word.”

“Would I ever embarrass ye?”

“Oh,  _ please _ ,” Claire hissed back, resisting the urge to hit Geillis on the arm like a child when Jamie ambled up to them, a slight hesitation to his step when he realized Claire wasn’t alone.

“Hi, Sassenach,” he said easily, handing her a cup of coffee. “I ken this is yer longest day of classes, I thought ye might need a little energy boost.”

Claire could see Geillis’ eyebrows raise into her hairline from the corner of her eye, the smirk that had never left her pale face widening. She shot her a dirty look before accepting the paper cup from Jamie gratefully, trying to bite the smile back from her lips.

“Thank you,” she peered at the label, eyes brightening when she saw it was black coffee, just the way she preferred. “How did you know?”

“Och, just a guess,” he shrugged, clearly pleased that he had been right. He turned to Geillis, sticking a hand out. “I’m Jamie. It’s nice to meet ye.”

“Geillis,” she held out her own hand, eyes positively gleaming with mischief as she looked him up and down. “I take coffee with cream, sugar, and two pumps of vanilla in case ye were wondering. I’ve got a long day of classes, too.”

Claire reached over with one hand, trying to be subtle, and pinched her hard on the arm. Geillis let out a small yelp, jumping back from Claire, green eyes flashing between the two red faces looking at her: Claire from annoyance, Jamie both mild embarrassment and amusement.

“Sounds like yer teeth will fall out soon if ye drink nothing but sugar,” Jamie smiled, “but I’ll remember that for next time.”

Claire wanted to say that if her teeth fell out, it wouldn’t be from her drink of choice, but her own fist. “Maybe that will be a new point of conversation at the bar for you,” she smiled sweetly. “The men will bring up what’s under the kilt, and you can show them what’s not in your mouth.”

She realized what she said a moment too late. A slow smile spread across Jamie’s face, a chuckle escaping despite his best efforts not to laugh at her words. Geillis turned fully to the side to look at Claire, her own smirk now a full fledged grin.

“Oh, fuck,” Claire muttered, glaring at both of them, her cheeks burning like fire. “If either of you say one word about what I just said, I will kill both of you at the same time.”

“I wouldna dream of it,” Geillis smiled. “I’m going to the library, Claire. I’ll make sure no one takes your spot. Nice meeting ye, Jamie.”

“You, too,” he nodded at her, turning his attention back to Claire, missing the wink and lewd hand motion Geillis made towards them as she started to walk away backwards.

“Hi,” he said softly, his mouth curling up on one side, a smile Claire was beginning to believe was saved just for her.

“Hi,” she said back just as softly, feeling the pull of gravity ( _ his body _ ) as she unconsciously took a step closer towards him. “How was the rest of your weekend?”

“Mmm,” he answered noncommittally, his eyebrows furrowing together. “It could have been better. Though speaking of weekends…”

“Yes?”

“I saw We Were Promised Jetpacks is playing at the outdoor festival on Saturday. Have ye ever seen them play before?”

“No. Should I have?”

“Of  _ course _ , Sassenach. Yer taste in music must be dreadful. I need to correct that. Ye should come...bring Geillis.”

“Come where?”

_ Laoghaire _ .

She sidled up next to Jamie, slipping an arm around his waist, her long blonde locks blowing against the navy of his sweater as she leaned her head against him. She looked small next to him, head barely reaching his shoulders, which had stiffened slightly with tension.

She looked expectantly at Jamie, a neutral expression on her face, waiting for him to say something. He was clearly caught off guard by her sudden appearance, his usually stoic demeanor faltering. “Are ye okay?” she let out a tense laugh, one hand reaching up to lay on his chest, and Claire felt a pang in between her ribcage at the motion, at the memory of placing her  _ own _ hand in that same spot a few nights before.

“Aye,” he finally managed, patting her shoulder awkwardly, eyes darting between Laoghaire and Claire before settling on the ground. “I was just telling Claire about the concert this weekend. I thought she might want to come along and bring her friend.”

“That would be fun,” Laoghaire looked at Claire, her blue eyes friendly as usual. “Ye should come, Claire. I’ll be arriving a little late because I have an engagement beforehand.”

“Sure,” Claire nodded, her bottom lip landing between her teeth. “Just let me know what time it starts and I’ll plan on meeting you there. I should get going...Geillis is waiting for me in the library.”

She could feel his eyes on her, and she met them briefly, whisky on blue, and knew the clouds beginning to storm in their depths were the same ones brewing in her own. Claire raised her coffee cup just barely to them, a quick “ _ see you later at home”  _ to Laoghaire out of her lips before she walked away, feeling flushed and strangely sick.

___________

The day of the concert dawned, Claire waking to a cool, overcast day, the sun occasionally peeking through the clouds for brief periods of time. She threw on a pair of skinny jeans with an oversized sweater, slipping her feet into a pair of white Converse. Her curls were loose around her face, falling several inches over her shoulders and down her back.

Laoghaire had left the apartment early in the morning with the promise of seeing Claire later, her voice almost forcefully cheerful when she said that this band was one of Jamie’s favorites. “ _ Hopefully it will be a good day _ ,” she had muttered, swinging her purse over her shoulder as she left through the front door.

Geillis had watched her go over the rim of her coffee cup, blowing at the steam until she was sure the door had closed and Laoghaire had left. “They’re no’ a happy couple.”

“What?” Claire asked, poking her head out of the bathroom door.

“Jamie and Laoghaire. I dinna ken when their problems started, but I’d be willing to bet it started around the time he met you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Claire scoffed, placing her toothbrush back in its holder.

Geillis simply raised her eyebrows, standing up and reaching for her jacket. “Let’s go meet this strapping Scot of yers.”

They made it to the site of the concert easily, Claire reaching for her phone to text Jamie to find out where he was when she felt a hand reach out and grab her arm, sliding down to lightly grasp her wrist. Claire whirled around, prepared to snap at whomever was holding on to her, mouth freezing and body relaxing when she saw Jamie looming over her, a smile lighting his face.

She nearly let out a sigh when she looked him up and down briefly, her heart squeezing at how  _ beautiful _ he was. He seemed taller than usual even amongst such a large crowd, his slim jeans molded over the strong curves of his legs. His jacket was worn open over a wwpj band tee, his curls peeking through the hat he wore backwards on top of his head. She felt such bubbling affection for him she couldn’t help but reach up and stroke at his cheek, feeling the soft stubble of his beard.

He leaned into her touch, his fingers tightening on her other wrist, bright eyes intent on hers. Squeezing once more, he let go of her when he noticed Geillis smirking behind Claire, his cheeks turning a soft pink at her look. “I’m glad ye both made it. I was worried ye’d have a hard time beating the crowds.”

“Geillis made it easy. I would have gotten lost without her,” Claire smiled, looking around with excitement at the people swarming everywhere. “So when does this amazing, wonderful, legendary band come on?” she asked teasingly.

“In about an hour. Another band will be starting in about ten minutes, so we should head towards the stage. Do ye want anything to eat or drink? Geillis, what about you?”

“I’m good,” Geillis looked up from her phone. “Actually, Joe just texted me, Claire. He’s here with a small group of people, so I think I’ll go meet up with them for a while if ye dinna mind? I can find the two of ye later.”

“Sure,” Claire said, shooting Geillis a look when she started to wiggle her auburn eyebrows at her, taking a small step forward to lightly stomp on her toes. Geillis merely laughed, waving at both of them before disappearing into the throng of people.

Claire turned back to Jamie, head knocking into his chest, sending her stumbling back slightly. He caught her easily, his big hands resting on her shoulders, which he squeezed gently, letting them rest on her biceps. They stood together for a moment, just breathing in the same air, before Claire threaded her fingers through his belt loops, tugging him forward. “Let’s go find a spot before I can’t see anything,” she smiled, turning around to begin walking towards the stage area.

They fell into step beside each other, arms bumping and touching along the way, lost together in a crowd of thousands. Jamie moved in front of her to squeeze through a block of people, reaching for her hand to make sure she didn’t get separated, his fingers ( _warm and_ _sure_ ) wrapped around her own. They finally reached a spot towards the middle of the stage, the crowd continuing to fill around them, whistles and laughter and conversation filling the air with a pleasant buzz.

“How many times have you seen them in concert?” she leaned up on her tiptoes to ask him, his head bowing to meet her halfway.

“Och, too many to count. Ian and I try to go every time they’re here in Edinburgh or Glasgow. Have ye ever been, Sassenach?”

“Just once before. Uncle Lamb had a conference and he brought me. It’s a beautiful city. So much architecture and history there. I’d like to spend some time visiting the Highlands when I can. I’ve never been before.  Maybe over the summer, if I have some time off before medical school starts.”

“The Highlands are beautiful, lass. If ye think the cities are amazing, wait until ye see the real Scottish countryside. We’ll have to go horseback riding, teach ye all about the different folklores and faerie hills. We’ll make ye a proper Scot.”

“We?”

“Aye,” he said easily, the implication apparently lost on him. “This is only part of yer training, Sassenach. Ye’ve got to appreciate the right kind of music, ken?”

“So you’ve said,” she laughed, moving slightly in front of Jamie as other people continued to squeeze in around them. She could feel the heat from his body as he stood behind her, and she resisted the urge to lean back into him, to find out how perfectly her head would fit underneath his chin.

The opening band had started to play, and the swell of shouts and cheering from the crowd seemed to change the air itself, a shot of electricity running through everyone, loosening inhibitions. Jamie’s hands found their way to Claihips, pulling her back against him just barely, and her eyes fluttered shut at the contact. She felt, rather than heard, the sigh of contentment leave his body, before he leaned down, putting his mouth level with her ear.

“Ye look beautiful, Sassenach,” he whispered, squeezing her hips before letting go, a shiver running through her body at the way his breath tickled down her neck. “Do ye want something to drink?”

“Yes, please,” she smiled at his promise to “ _ be right back _ ,” watching him disperse the crowd easily with his stature, turning back to watch the band and the people around her. She reached for her phone in her back pocket when she felt it buzz, pulling it out to see a text from Geillis.

_ how’s it going with yer Scottish hunk? _

_ he’s not MINE, geillis. are you coming back to find us soon? wwpj will be starting. _

_ sure jan. i’m going to have a couple more drinks with everyone, i’ll find ye both soon. have fun. ;) _

Claire rolled her eyes and went to put her phone away when it lit up with another message from Geillis, this one with no words, but two emojis: a tongue and eggplant right next to each other, followed quickly by another text with a wink face. Claire was going to strangle her whenever she showed back up, she decided.

“Who’s sending ye sexts like that, Sassenach?”

Jamie was back, leaning over her shoulder, a smirk spreading across his face as he looked at the messages from Geillis. He handed her a plastic cup filled with beer, the foam nearly sloshing over the side before Claire grabbed it and took a sip, saving her shoes from potential disaster.

“Geillis. I’m going to kill her the next time I see her.”

“Ye seem to have to threaten her a lot,” Jamie laughed, chucking underneath Claire’s chin when she scowled at him. “Chin up, our favorite band is starting now.”

“ _ My _ favorite band isn’t even in the vicinity,” Claire retorted.

“So ye say, but I ken ye’re gonna change yer mind after hearing them.”

“Are we betting on this?”

“What do ye want to bet?”

“Hmm,” she pretended to consider, crossing her arms across her chest, one finger tapping on her mouth, which was starting to curl up at the smile spreading across Jamie’s face. “If I decide they’re  _ not  _ my favorite band, you have to bring me coffee  _ and _ donuts for a whole week.”

“And if I win?” he moved his head slightly to the side as he considered her, eyes focused on hers.

“Whatever you want,” she said, turning her head back to the stage, a wide smile blooming when his eyes didn’t leave her face.

It didn’t take long for Claire to understand what Jamie loved so much about their music, but as the crowd continued to squeeze in around them, she found herself standing up on her tiptoes trying to see what was going on in front of her. It seemed that every Scottish giant had converged around them, making it impossible for her to see. When she let out another sigh in disgust, Jamie laughed, taking their beers and putting them on the ground in front of him.

“C’mere, Sassenach,” he said, crouching down next to her.

“Come here  _ where _ ?” she asked, staring at him in confusion.

“Get on my shoulders,” Jamie waved a hand at her. “Ye’ll be able to see if ye’re up high. Other lasses are doing the same.”

“I’m not getting on your shoulders,” she huffed. “I can see perfectly fine.”

“Aye, maybe ye can see the arse of the man in front of ye, but ye canna see the band. Come  _ here _ ,” he repeated, snaking an arm around her waist and tugging her towards him. He picked her up easily, placing her on his shoulders before he stood back up, her feet dangling down by his waist.

“Better?” he asked, turning his head to look up at her, the bill of his hat brushing against her jeans.

“Maybe a little,” she smiled, brushing a curl back from his face, her fingers dancing along the curve of his ear. He moved his cheek against the inside of her wrist, his lips almost touching the delicate skin there, both of them turning to look back at the stage as another song began.

Claire found herself more relaxed than she had been in as long as she could remember, her feet wrapped around Jamie’s sides. She got lost in the music, in the energy of the crowd, in the energy of being so near  _ this man  _ that she didn’t realize she was waving her arms along with the crowd, shoulders swaying along with her head.

Jamie was apparently lost in the music, too; his eyes were focused on the stage, but his hands had begun a voyage from the top of Claire’s knees up her thighs. They covered the expanse of her legs, moving slowly ( _ teasingly, unconsciously _ ) until there was nowhere left for them to go. His thumbs rubbed back and forth, curving down  _ just so _ , almost reaching the round of her ass.

She leaned down to say something to him when a wisp of yellow hair (so pale it was almost white) caught the corner of her eye, and she froze, eyes moving to its owner.

Laoghaire stood behind them, Geillis over her shoulder looking apologetic, her pale eyes moving from the curve of Claire’s bottom on Jamie’s shoulders, to his hands splayed across her thighs, up to Claire’s face, resting there once she realized Claire was looking back at her. There was a flicker of something in Laoghaire’s eyes ( _ confusion, recognition _ ) before they cleared over, her face steeling itself into a mask of calm resolve.

One hand had clenched involuntarily on Jamie’s shoulder, her nails digging into the soft material of his collar. He looked up with confusion, turning to the other side when he saw the look on Claire’s face, his own eyes widening slightly when he saw Laoghaire.

His hands tightened on Claire’s thighs ( _ reassuring, oddly soothing)  _ before she motioned for him to let her down, tucking her hair behind her ear as she did so, hoping she didn’t look as guilty as she suddenly felt. She smoothed down the front of her sweater, taking a deep breath to steady herself before looking back up.

Laoghaire was staring at Jamie, chin tilted up as she waited for him to acknowledge her. He met her eyes defiantly but said nothing, standing at his full height slightly in front of Claire, as if to protect her. Laoghaire looked between the two of them briefly, before clearing her throat and speaking. “How many sets have I missed?” she motioned towards the stage, acting as if the previous few minutes had never happened.

“Two,” Jamie said flatly, his left hand going to his side, fingers beginning to tap out a rhythm. Claire cut her eyes at the movement, swallowing down the bile rising in her throat when Laoghaire reached for Jamie’s hand.

Like everything was the same.

Like he was hers.

“We need drinks,” Geillis said, reaching out for Claire, tugging her around and away from Jamie. “And something stronger than a beer.”


	5. you're stuck in my head and i can't get you out of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very slightly NSFW.

Claire sighed deeply, slumping over the table to let her head rest on top of her arms. Her curls spread over her shoulders and forearms, tickling the soft skin exposed by her short sleeved shirt. She let her eyes close for a few moments before sitting back up with a groan, rubbing at them like a child.

It was after midnight, and she was working in the library at her usual spot, her homework ( _ an assortment of papers, notebooks, pens and highlighters _ ) spread across her work space. She had been there for hours, only taking one break to run downstairs and buy a coffee. She was exhausted ( _ physically _ ) from the lack of sleep she had been getting, and  _ emotionally _ , from thinking about Jamie and Laoghaire.

After the concert was over, she and Jamie had never gotten a chance to decide who the winner of their bet was.

Claire had stood rooted to her spot, frozen like a statue as she watched the two of them. Laoghaire had reached for Jamie’s hand, trying to intertwine their fingers, to make their palms meet together as they had likely done countless times before (usual, ordinary,  _ normal _ ), but he crossed his arms across his chest, taking a step to his right, away from her.

Claire had watched the delicate column of Laoghaire’s neck, watched as her throat swallowed hard, eyes shifting down to the ground before Geillis dragged her away, the promise of something stronger than beer propelling her feet along the pavement behind her friend. She turned to look over her shoulder, unable to resist the urge to look at him ( _ at them _ ), to see if something had shifted again. Jamie was watching her go, Laoghaire standing stiffly at his side. Their eyes had met, whisky on blue, and what Claire saw reflected there  _ (longing and  frustration, like lightning crackling and waiting to strike _ ) made her look away, her chest tight and uncomfortable.

She hadn’t gone back after she and Geillis bought their drinks (to them, to  _ Jamie _ ), choosing instead to spend a little bit of time with her fellow classmates before begging off home. Claire had decided to spend the rest of the night studying and working on a paper, unwilling to risk seeing either Laoghaire or Jamie at the apartment.

She wound her hair up on the top of her head, holding it in her hands as she thought of him, wondering if he felt the same way she did ( _ disappointed, off kilter, like she had been part of a robbery but couldn’t find precisely what had been taken from her _ ). But could something ( _ someone, Jamie _ ) that didn’t belong to her really be stolen away? So caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the footsteps quietly padding up behind her until she felt a hand on the back of her shoulder. “Hey.”

Claire shrieked at the contact, hair falling back down around her face from her makeshift bun as she pulled away, her head twisting around quickly to see who was there. One hand came up to rest on her pounding heart, the other gripping the back of her chair. “Jamie… what are you doing here?”

“I needed to see ye and ye werena home. I figured I’d stop in here first before heading to the rugby stadium,” he said somewhat sheepishly. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” she said, disconcerted by his sudden appearance. She motioned towards a chair and he pulled it back, sitting down next to her, his eyes meeting hers briefly before focusing on the carpeted floor. Claire leaned back in her own chair, facing him expectantly as she waited for him to speak, glancing over his form briefly.

He was still wearing his clothes from the concert, although he had lost his hat in the hours since she’d last seen him. His hair was sticking out in wild curls around his face, like he had run his hand through his hair too many times in frustration, leaving it looking like Claire was feeling. He looked back up, locking his eyes with hers.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his body turned towards hers, voice tinged with regret. “I kent Laoghaire was going to be coming at some point to meet up with us, and I put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“Jamie…” she closed her eyes briefly, shaking her head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I feel like I’m the one who should be apologizing to you or… to  _ her _ .”

“For what?” he asked, surprise lining his voice.

“Because she’s your girlfriend and I…” she trailed off, biting down on her bottom lip, pressing until it turned white. She could feel her throat getting tighter, and she took a deep breath, trying to stem away the tears. She nearly came undone when Jamie reached over, gently rubbing at her lip with his thumb, easing it out from underneath her teeth. His fingers were splayed across her cheek, cupping it, and she leaned into his touch, unable ( _ unwilling _ ) to stop herself.

“You what?” he whispered.

She couldn’t have looked away from him even if she wanted to. “I feel like I’m drowning in you, and I  _ can’t _ .  _ We _ can’t.”

He was quiet for a moment, thumb swiping across her lips once more ( _ delicately, reverently _ ) before he took his hand off her face and reached for her hands, fingers intertwining of their own accord, resting them in her lap. He spoke carefully. “This, what it is between us...it isna usual, is it?”

She let out a shaky breath, looking down at their joined hands, her thumbs stroking back and forth along the curves of his palms. “No, it isn’t usual. It’s different.”

A small smile curved the side of his lips up at her words, the half-smile making his eyes slant more than usual. He turned serious again once he spoke, his hands gripping hers more tightly. “That doesna make things any easier, does it?”

Claire laughed ruefully, squeezing his hands once more before pulling away, drawing her knees up to her chest to rest her chin. “No, I don’t suppose it does.”

He considered her for a moment, before wrapping a hand around the leg of her chair and dragging it closer to his own, the edges bumping together. His fingers rested on her knees before moving down her calves, thumbs rubbing back and forth. “Can we agree that there will be honesty between us? That there may be room for secrets right now, but no’ for lies?”

His eyes were intent on hers ( _ focused, pleading _ ) as he waited for her answer. “Yes, I can agree to that,” Claire said, nudging his thigh with a toe.

“Then I need ye to understand there are things I need to figure out with my family and Laoghaire before I tell ye about them.”

She let his words sink in for a moment before she nodded, his body visibly relaxing at the motion. “Okay,” she said simply, smile curling across her face as they sat and watched each other, his own smile making her heart pound in her chest. After a few minutes, his lingering stare began to unnerve her, and she resisted the urge to self-consciously tuck at her hair. “What?”

“What do ye mean ‘ _ what _ ’?” he mimicked her accent, eyes growing bright as he stretched her legs out, pulling them to rest on his lap, fingers wandering underneath her yoga pants to slide along her skin.

“You’re staring at me.”

“Aye,” he said, not the least bit embarrassed. “I told ye earlier you looked beautiful and I meant it. Now we’re here alone and I can look at ye as much as I want.”

“I’m wearing stretchy black pants and a t-shirt. I’m a mess right now,” she gestured towards her outfit, feeling her cheeks begin to flush with color, her eyes fixed squarely on his chest to avoid meeting his wandering gaze. A long finger touched underneath her chin, forcing her head up to meet his eyes again.

“Ye’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen. C’mere.” He squeezed her calf gently before sliding his hand out from underneath her pant leg, grabbing her hands and tugging her up from her chair. She hesitated briefly before he pulled again, one arm snaking around her waist, bringing her down onto his lap.

They both sighed when their bodies made contact, Claire’s arms wrapping around his shoulders, one hand sliding up his neck while her fingers tangled into his hair, playing with the curls at his nape. Jamie’s arms settled around her waist, hugging her to him, his face turning to bury itself into her neck. He breathed in deeply ( _ inhaling her _ ), the rush of breath as he exhaled leaving gooseflesh in its wake.

Her head lulled to the side as she tightened her grip on him, his nose nuzzling against her skin before he slowly ( _ delicately)  _ placed his lips on the soft spot behind her ear. Claire’s eyes fluttered closed, her body going slack as she arched into him. “Jamie…” her voice came out breathy, barely a whisper.

He hummed in response against her, kissing the same spot once more before his lips started to move down her neck, his tongue warm against her flesh as it darted out to lick at her skin. One hand moved from her waist, tangling in her hair as he moved her head to gain better access. Finding her pulse point, his mouth began to suck ( _ wide _ ,  _ hard, intentional _ ), only easing up the pressure when Claire let out a whimper. He licked the same spot, soothing it with his tongue before fastening his lips to it once more, his other hand moving up the curve of her body, thumb stopping to rest just along the curve of her breast.

Her body moved before her mind realized what it was doing, one leg moving over his lap to straddle him, his lips never leaving her neck. Her hands came around to rest on his chest ( _ muscular, pounding _ ), his heart beating erratically underneath them. They curved over him, her nails scraping a path down to the hem of his shirt, her hands seeking the skin underneath. Her palms spread over him, feeling his muscles contract under her touch.

He pulled back from her neck, his breath blowing out unsteadily at the feel of her hands on him, one finger running delicately over the patch of skin he had just been kissing ( _ red, almost bruised _ ), tracing it back and forth. His eyes were hooded as they met her own, dark with desire. “I think I left a mark.”

“I don’t care,” she shook her head, pushing against him firmly.

“God, Sassenach,” he nearly groaned, cupping her face with his hands, urging her lips towards his when the static from the intercom broke through, followed by what sounded like someone hitting a microphone, sending an ear splitting noise through the building. They both jumped, Claire squeezing onto Jamie’s sides as they broke apart.

“The library will be closing in ten minutes. Please gather your belongings and head towards an exit. Thank you.”

Claire blinked slowly, trying to make sense of what was happening. She looked down at their bodies: her hands on his flesh, their hips pressed together, chests touching while both of their hearts hammered away through their pulse points. Her eyes moved to his mouth, so close to hers, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip ( _ full and pink, begging to be kissed _ ). She forced herself to look away, to meet his eyes, his fingers rubbing gently at the tender spot where her jaw met her ears.

A slow smile spread across her face, matching the one on Jamie’s lips, a giggle bubbling up inside of her before it burst out, filling the air between them. Jamie chuckled then, shaking his head once before bringing her head towards him those final few centimeters, kissing her temple and then her forehead.

“Well that was a bit of a buzzkill. I guess it’s a good thing since we  _ are _ in the library, after all.”

“Fuck the library,” he grumbled, earning another laugh from Claire. His mouth curled back up at the sound, watching her with such affection that her throat began to feel tight. “Do ye have any plans for tomorrow night?”

“Probably more of this.”

“Oh, aye?” he quirked an eyebrow up at her words, a smirk spreading across his face, his hands moving down her neck, touching the red patch blooming there ( _ his mark _ ) before rubbing along her shoulders, tickling at her skin.

“Oh my god,” she swatted at his chest, feeling her cheeks begin to burn at his teasing. “I meant  _ studying _ .”

“Mmm, there are lots of things we could study together.”

“Oh, really?”

“Aye, do ye want me to list them?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Mr. Fraser. I’ve got a good imagination.”

“Why don’t you tell me then?” he leaned into her neck again, his lips peppering light kisses along her skin, before she reluctantly pushed a hand against his chest.

“While I’d love to continue being inappropriate with you, we need to get out of here. This conversation can continue later.”

He sighed, moving his hands to her hips as he helped her stand up, grabbing her jacket to help her into it, rubbing her arms up and down as he watched her zip it up. “Will ye meet me at the rugby stadium tomorrow night?”

“Will there be popcorn?”

“Of course.”

She smiled. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

__________

Claire moved around her room in her apartment, grabbing a sweater from her closet and throwing it on over her head. She was due to meet Jamie in half an hour, giving her little time to get changed and make it across campus on time after spending the majority of the day back in the library (this time alone).

She cursed when she heard the buzz of the dryer, walking out of her room to grab a laundry basket for the clothes. Laoghaire had left a note ( _ curt, polite _ ) on the counter asking Claire if she wouldn’t mind getting them out for her and setting them in her room, as she was ( _ once again _ ) going out somewhere with her friends. She had been gone from the apartment by the time Claire woke up, eliminating the possibility of any awkward interaction between them.

She walked into Laoghaire’s bedroom, newly filled basket propped against her hip, moving around the side of her bed to set it on her duvet. A framed picture on the nightstand caught her eye, and she reached over to pick it up, fingers ghosting over the faces of the people reflected through the glass.

It was a picture of Jamie and Laoghaire, his arm slung around her shoulders as she leaned against him, one arm encircling his waist. Her smile was wide ( _ almost a laugh _ ), her eyes big and bright, hair whipping around her face. Jamie’s smile mirrored hers, his eyes crinkling at the corners. They looked…  _ happy _ .

Claire swallowed hard, feeling as though a rock had suddenly settled into the pit of her stomach. She placed the picture back on her nightstand, picking up the one next to it: Laoghaire and a woman who looked slightly older than them, her dark hair falling just underneath her collarbones. Her eyes were like Jamie’s ( _ blue, slanted as she smiled _ ) and Claire knew without hesitation that she was seeing a picture of Jamie’s sister Jenny for the first time.

She set it back down, her fingers falling from the frame onto the surface of the nightstand. She stood there for a moment, rattled, fighting the rising urge to run in the opposite direction of what she wanted ( _ Jamie _ ). She forced herself to turn and walk out of the room, away from the pictures and the stories they told.

__________

Claire closed the gate of the rugby stadium behind her quietly, turning to head towards the nearest set of stairs. She had just made it on time, slightly out of breath and wind blown. She turned the corner, steps slowing when she saw Jamie leaning against the staircase railing, arms crossed across his chest, waiting for her. She felt the familiar drop in her stomach at the sight of him, the anticipation of being close to him that had been rising all day reaching a crest. He reached for her as she drew close enough for him to touch, pulling her body into his.

She wanted to lose herself in him, to bury her face into his neck the way he had done the night before, the way he was currently burying his nose in her hair. But she couldn’t help but wonder when he had last held Laoghaire this same way.  When was the last time he smiled at her ( _ with her, because of her _ ) the way he had done in that framed picture on her nightstand?

Her arms were wrapped around his neck, but she felt her body grow slightly rigid at the image of the two of them in her mind. Jamie pulled away slightly, brushing her hair back from her face. “Are ye alright?”

Her eyebrows creased together slightly as she took in the concern on his face. His hands tightened on her waist ( _ steady and reassuring _ ) as he waited for her to speak. She had promised him that there could be secrets between them, but not lies, her heart squeezing momentarily at the thought that  _ she _ was the secret. But he had promised her he would tell her more when he could, and she had to trust in that.

Claire shook her head at herself, trying to clear the cobweb of thoughts racing through her mind. Whatever happened, she wanted ( _ needed _ ) to be present in the moment with him. “I’m fine. It’s just been a weird night. Don’t worry about it,” she said, grabbing his hand and tugging him up the stairs with her.

He held onto her hand but didn’t move to follow her up the stairs, sending her stumbling back into him. “Are ye sure?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “I hope you didn’t forget my popcorn. Come on.”

They walked up to the top of the stadium hand in hand, Jamie telling her about his day along the way (“ _ so boring,” “went for a run,” “watched a couple episodes of The Office, _ ”), Claire stopping short when she saw what was waiting for them at their spot.

A large tartan blanket was folded neatly on one of the seats, a small picnic basket resting on the floor in front of it. Two glasses sat on top, already full of an amber liquid. Claire turned to Jamie, her heart leaping into her throat. “You made us a picnic?”

“Aye,” he shrugged, somewhat sheepishly.

She squeezed his hand. “I love it. It’s perfect.”  _ You’re _ perfect, she wanted to say.

He smiled at that, reaching forward to press a kiss against her curls. “I’m glad ye like it. Come on then, yer snacks are waiting.”

“You didn’t bring cheddar popcorn, did you?” Claire asked hesitantly, peering into the picnic basket like she was afraid the contents were going to jump out and attack her.

“What do ye take me for, a savage? What makes ye think I would eat popcorn with fake, powdered cheese on it? I’m health conscious, unlike  _ you _ , remember?”

Claire shrugged nonchalantly, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she bent down to grab a box of candy next to the popcorn. “All I’m saying is that anyone worth their salt knows the best popcorn is caramel popcorn with a side of Milk Duds...which I’m happy to see you remembered to bring.”

“I did promise ye concessions,” he said, grabbing the back pocket of her jeans as he brought her to rest on his lap. “There, that’s better.”

“Is this why there’s only one blanket?”

He smirked. “Ye ken body heat is the best way to stay warm, right? You being a nursing student and all?”

“Mmm, I think I do remember learning that at some point, though I think skin on skin is actually the best way to generate heat,” she snuggled in closer to him, grabbing the blanket off the chair next to them and throwing it over their bodies. “This is beautiful, where is it from?”

“It’s the Fraser plaid. I brought it from home to keep a little bit of Lallybroch with me.”

Claire hummed as his hands moved underneath her soft sweater, palms warm and smooth over her stomach. “Do you go home often?”

“When I can. I’m going to go back for a day or two soon.”

His voice was measured, but she could feel the beats of his heart quicken underneath her back. She turned to look up at him, taking in the slight clench of his jaw and the far off look in his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet. Soon,” he promised, squeezing her gently.

She nodded her head, giving him a small smile and settled back against him, letting out a deep sigh, his chest rumbling underneath her as he spoke again.

“Are we going to talk more about what ye said?”

“What I said about what?” she murmured.

“The proper way to generate body heat.”

Claire laughed out loud, elbowing him playfully in the stomach. “You’re awful.”

He chuckled at that, reaching around her for some of their popcorn. “I figured it was worth a shot. Do ye want to play a real game?”

She narrowed her eyes slightly at him. “What kind of game?”

“Twenty questions.”

“Didn’t we sort of play that game together already?”

“I think ye let me ask about two questions and that was it. Come on,” he poked her sides.

“Okay. You first.”

“Favorite color?”

“How safe,” she teased. “I’ll go with red. But if it’s for clothing, black or white. You have to answer the same question now. I’m making that a rule of the game.”

“Bossy, hm?” he teased back. “Mine is green. It reminds me of the hills and mountains back home. Now you get to ask a question.”

“Okay… favorite song to karaoke to?”

“Och, I dinna karaoke. Ever,” he said immediately.

“What do you mean you don’t karaoke? Have you ever been?”

“There isna enough whisky in Scotland to get me to sing, Sassenach. I’m tone deaf or something. I canna do it.”

“Jamie!” she twisted around to look at him in shock. “Getting up on stage and singing terribly with your friends is like a rite of passage! You don’t know what you’ve been missing out on. Now I’m going to force you to do it.”

“I’d like to see ye try,” he laughed.

“Oh?” she raised an eyebrow. “I’m persistent, Fraser. I’ll have you singing before you know what you’re doing. You’ll love it.”

He made that Scottish noise deep in his throat that she associated only with him. “And what song would ye have me sing?”

“You can sing some Blondie with me.”

“Christ, Sassenach.  _ Blondie _ ?”

“You can pick out the song then!”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Moving on. How old were ye when ye had yer first kiss?”

She thought for a moment. “I think I was ten.”

“Ten?” he asked incredulously.

She rolled her eyes at him, giving him a look. “I was away at a job site with my Uncle Lamb while he worked all day. I made friends with a little boy from the local town and it seemed like a good idea at the time. He was a very handsome twelve year old. Very worldly. And you?”

“I was fourteen. I went to Paris during the summer to live with one of my uncles and met a girl there named Annalise. I bought her a chocolate croissant and kissed her outside of a cafe near the Eiffel Tower.”

“Oh my god, Jamie. That’s such a cliche,” she breathed out, trying her hardest not to laugh at him.

“I know,” he chuckled. “It’s kind of charming, though, right?”

“Very,” she giggled. “What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“Looking for compliments, Beauchamp?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

Jamie looked at her, mouth quirking up in that slow half-smile of his, head shaking just slightly as he let out a breathy laugh. “I could compliment ye all day, Sassenach. The way the color of your hair changes when the light hits it, like water rushing over a burn,” he reached out to grab her curls, rubbing them between two fingers. “How bonny ye look when ye say something ye think is embarrassing and yer cheeks get all pink. The way ye bite down on yer bottom lip when you’re confused or worried. How perfectly ye fit against me, how much just thinking about you makes me smile.”

He paused for a moment, thumbs resting on her face ( _ tenderly _ ), her eyes beginning to mist over with tears. “But most of all, Claire, I love how you make me feel free.”

“Jamie…” she swallowed hard, her hand coming up to his chest. “You make me feel free, too.” His eyes fluttered closed at her words, his forehead coming to rest against hers. They sat together for what felt like an infinity, limbs tangled together underneath the inky black sky.

His cell phone rang out, finally breaking the moment. He pulled an arm out from around Claire and pressed a button to silence it, not even looking to see who had called. “I’m sorry, I thought I turned it off before I came here.”

“It’s fine,” Claire smiled, wiping at her eyes quickly. “Maybe it was a sign for us to keep playing our game. I think you were up next.”

“Aye,” he shifted around in his seat, trying to get comfortable. “What would ye do if—,” he was interrupted by the shrill ringing of his phone once more. This time he pulled it fully out of his pocket, looking down at the name on the screen. His face changed, hardening, before he silenced it once more and shoved it back into his pants. “I’m sorry again. What would ye bring with ye if you traveled back in time through magical standing stones?”

“Magical standing stones? Scotland indeed,” Claire smirked at his question ( _ grateful he had tried to lighten the mood _ ), forehead knitting when Jamie’s phone began to ring again.

“Ifrinn!” he cursed, trying to reach and turn the phone off. Claire stopped him with another hand on his arm.

“You should get that, Jamie. They’re just going to keep calling.”

“Nay, Sassenach. I’m here with you, I’m no’ answering anyone’s calls.”

She took a deep breath. “It’s Laoghaire, isn’t it?”

She had done it. Broken the spell.

His face tightened, body stiffening next to her. “Aye, but it doesna matter.”

“Jamie, she’s your girlfriend.” Her words were quiet, face fighting to stay neutral. “You should call her back.”

“ _ Jesus _ ,” he swore again, swallowing hard when the phone began to vibrate in his hand for the fourth time in a row. “Fine. Hello?” he answered, Claire moving off his lap as he got up from their shared seat at the top of the stadium,  _ their spot _ , walking several feet away.

Claire busied herself with a loose thread in the blanket in her hands, pretending to be more interested in it than she really was. She desperately didn’t want to hear what he was saying, yet all she wanted to do was listen to every word at the same time; to know if the same inflection of humor and affection and  _ love _ was in his voice like it was when he talked to her. She wondered if Laoghaire was calling him from her bedroom, if she was sitting on her bed next to her nightstand, the picture of the two of them ( _ happy, before Claire _ ) mocking her as it mocked Claire now.

“No, I’m no’ at home,” he was saying, one hand running through his hair with agitation, leaving stray curls sticking out. “Well if ye went to my place and no one answered the door, why did ye ask me if I was there?”

He stayed mostly quiet for the next few minutes, trying to interrupt Laoghaire’s endless tirade, but it seemed she would not let him get even a single word in. He finally bit out, “no, I’m no’ coming over tonight so we can  _ talk about this _ . I dinna have anything to say.”

The tips of his ears were turning pink, a sure sign of his impending rage as he continued to listen to whatever was being said on the other end of the line. He snapped “FINE,” before shoving the phone back into his pocket, then “ **_fuck_ ** ,” before he came back to sit next to Claire.

“You should go to her.”

She had forced the words out of her mouth. She didn’t want to see the look on his face, but she couldn’t help herself. He looked hurt and slightly dazed, like she had slapped him without warning or cause. “She’s your girlfriend, Jamie. Go.”

“Claire—,” he started, but she shook her head.

“It’s okay. You should go,” she repeated, swallowing hard past the sudden lump that had formed in her throat. “ _ Go _ .”

He reached for her then but she cringed away, folding in on herself. The picture of the two of them kept flashing in her mind, the way their bodies had been glued together, the way they had seemed to  _ fit _ . “Please just go.”

He let his hands drop down by his side as he tried desperately to get her to make eye contact with him. She could feel the tension from his body filling the air between them, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him again. He cleared his throat, his voice shaky when he spoke. “I’ll go because ye asked me to, but I dinna want to leave ye like this.”

“I’ll be fine, Jamie.”

He hesitated for another moment before he finally nodded and turned away, heading towards the stairs. He stopped after taking a step down, turning slightly back towards her. He opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. Another unsteady breath came out before he continued down the steps, his hand clutching the rail.

Claire watched him go, squeezing his plaid around her.

__________

She spent the next few days in a fog, an internal battle raging over the situation she found herself in with Jamie. He had texted her an hour after leaving the rugby stadium, his message brief and vague.

_ i’m going to lallybroch now. i should be back in a couple of days. when i get back, i need to see and talk to you. _

She hadn’t responded, tossing her phone on the bed next to her, wrapping herself up in his blanket ( _ and his scent _ ), the one she had taken home with her. She felt like she was on autopilot, going to class and somehow managing to take notes even though her head was someplace else. Her professor checked his watch and finished up the last of his lecture, Claire stretching as she stood up from the table she shared with Geillis, carefully gathering her notebook and books up. She planned on spending the rest of the day in bed wallowing and watching Netflix. When she looked up to say goodbye, Geillis was smiling sweetly at her, raising her suspicions immediately.

“What are you so happy about?” Claire narrowed her eyes.

“Is a girl no’ allowed to just be pleased to be alive?”

“When that girl is  _ you _ , no,” Claire said pointedly, zipping her bag up before throwing it over her shoulder. “What do you want?”

Geillis leaned back against the table, one hand twirling a long red lock around her fingers. “There’s a big house party tonight, just off campus. Everyone is planning on going, and I want ye to come with me.”

“It’s Tuesday.”

“And?”

“It’s the beginning of the week. I have… important things to do tonight. I don’t have time to go to a party. Who does that in the middle of the school week anyways?”

Geillis rolled her eyes, shaking her head back and forth. “Ye act like ye’re a 95 year old besom, Claire. We’re in  _ college _ . Everyone parties during the week. And judging by how much ye’ve been sulking about without Jamie around bringing ye coffees and wetting yer panties, I think ye could use the night out.”

Claire’s mouth fell open at her words, a quiet gasp coming out. “ _ Wetting my panties _ ? You’re disgusting!”

“I dinna see ye denying it. Are ye really going to tell me he didna leave ye all hot and bothered at the concert the other day, with the way his hands were all over yer arse?”

Claire clamped her mouth shut, glaring at Geillis. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. He has a girlfriend who happens to be my roommate in case you forgot. And his hands were  _ not _ all over my arse.”

“Oh, aye? Well, I guess his hands werena all over yer arse just the way his mouth didna give ye that hickey,” she said, running a finger along the spot on Claire’s neck that she had tried ( _ and clearly failed _ ) to hide with concealer. “When did that happen?”

Claire gaped at her before stomping off towards the door, holding her middle finger up to Geillis as she left. “We aren’t friends anymore.”

“I’ll pick ye up at eight!” Geillis called, her laughter following Claire like music.

_ __________ _

“This isn’t a  _ house _ , Geillis, it’s a small castle,” Claire said in awe as she stood at the end of a gated property, eyes traveling up the expanse of the estate. “What kind of college student lives here?”

“One with very rich parents,” Geillis laughed. “His name is John Grey. He’s a lord.  _ Literally _ .”

As Geillis had described, the property was just off the edge of campus past the stables and rugby stadium, nestled behind wrought iron gates and a miniature forest of trees. It was secluded, private, and  _ posh _ ; it was also currently littered with students in various states of drunkenness, several cars parked along the winding driveway and in the grass of the front yard.

The gates were open, allowing people to come and go as they pleased, many of them stumbling about with red plastic cups in their hands. Claire could hear the faint sound of bagpipes playing ( _ terribly _ ) in the distance, presumably in the backyard.

They began to make their way towards the front door of the house, Geillis swearing when her heel got caught in a small hole in the driveway. Claire reached down to help pull her stiletto out, both letting out a shriek at the sudden rumble and roar behind them.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” Claire shielded her eyes against the blinding white heat of a headlight, staring with incredulity at the motorcycle that came sailing next to them, far too close for comfort.

It parked two cars down from them, maneuvering effortlessly into a space that seemed entirely too small for such a large machine. The driver killed the engine, his booted foot nudging the kickstand into place before climbing off. He took off his helmet, setting it on the seat of the motorcycle, carefully peeling his leather gloves off his fingers before running a hand through his wild, unkempt hair. He unzipped his leather jacket, his white tee underneath peeking through.

“Are you crazy?” Claire snapped, her raised voice causing him to look over in their direction, hand stopping midway through his hair again. Claire stood up and walked away from Geillis, leaving her to continue to struggle on her own.

“Oh, dinna mind me, I’ll just flounder over here,” she said sarcastically to Claire, yanking her heel out of the hole, sending her stumbling after her friend.

“Pardon?” he said, stepping into the lit path, turning to face Claire head on.

“You nearly ran us over with how close you were!” She stopped short when she saw who it was, her eyes looking him up and down, finally focusing on his cloudy blue eyes. “ _ Robert _ ?”

“Hello, Claire,” Robert St. Germain smiled, a row of gleaming white teeth shining through his full lips. “Geillis. Who’s ready to have some fun tonight?”


	6. you know my thoughts are running loose, it's just a thing you make me do

“You drive a motorcycle?” Claire asked in disbelief. 

He chuckled, inclining his head in her direction. “It seems I do.”

“But you’re a  _ medical student _ ,” she gaped.

Robert St. Germain was a fellow science major, studying biochemistry and genetics. He had come to school in Scotland from France, his English just slightly accented due to the extensive amount of time he had spent in America growing up with his ambassador father. He was a little too handsome, and he knew it; chestnut hair always tousled like he had just rolled out of bed ( _ likely with a different girl every night) _ , accent more pronounced than usual when he was trying to be more charming. He was rugged in a refined, polished way; a bad boy who knew how to be good when he needed to be.

“I didn’t know medical students couldn’t ride motorcycles,” he smirked.

“They can, they just don’t because of how dangerous they are. It’s a death trap,” Claire retorted. “Certainly you’ve seen the statistics in medical textbooks.”

“I like to live on the edge, what can I say?” his accent had that extra little French flourish to it as he leaned against the bike, legs crossed at his ankles. “Besides, I wear a helmet. Maybe you could take a ride with me sometime.”

“I don’t think so, but thanks for the offer,” Claire reached for Geillis’ arm, turning to walk up the driveway with her. “You may not care if we end up discussing your head trauma and broken bones tomorrow in class, but I certainly care about mine. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Maybe we can have a drink together inside,” he called after them, Claire waving a hand in acknowledgment, feeling his eyes on her as she walked away ( _ curious, amused, intent) _ .

They made it inside together, Geillis cursing her ankle and “ _ stupid fucking high heels invented by men _ ” the whole way, Claire marveling at the inside of the house. John Grey walked over to say hello to Geillis, kissing both of her cheeks, holding his hand out to Claire. He was impeccably dressed, his light brown hair gelled just right.

They made small talk for a few minutes ( _ John’s eyes trained on her face with acute interest, almost recognition _ ) before Claire excused herself and wandered through the living room into the kitchen, students standing everywhere with drinks in their hands. A bar had been set up along one of the walls, filled with different types of whiskeys and beers, one of John’s friends acting as bartender behind it.

Claire walked up and gave him a small smile when he asked what she wanted to drink. “I’ll have a whisky,” she said. “Thanks.”

He filled up a cup and handed it to her, Claire raising it to him in a salute before she turned around, taking a long sip as she continued to take in her surroundings. She decided she would check out the outdoor area when she felt someone grab her elbow, fingers curling around the top of her arm. She tilted her head up to see Robert standing next to her, his eyes peering into her cup.

“Big whisky drinker?” he asked.

“What’s that saying? ‘When in Rome’? I figured since I transferred to Scotland for a new experience, the whisky is part of that.”

“I prefer a nice bottle of champagne, myself.”

“Is that the French part of you peeking out?”

“Perhaps,” he smiled. “Although a glass of whisky after a long day of classes tastes nice, too. I have to confess I’m surprised, Claire. I didn’t take you for the party type.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, feeling her body stiffen at his words.

“You just seem so focused in our class all the time. I don’t mean it as an insult, it’s just...so many of the girls here are just that: girls. You seem to have a much better head on your shoulders.”

“Oh. Well, thank you. To be honest, I only came tonight because of Geillis. She seemed to think I needed a night out.”

“In need of a distraction?” he asked, his eyes locked on hers as he sipped at his own drink.

She laughed hollowly, playing with the rim of her cup absentmindedly. “You could say that,” she said vaguely. She was spared from having to say more when Geillis ambled over to them, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Let’s go outside and dance,” she crooked a finger at Claire, motioning for her to follow her through the large glass doors that led to the backyard. “Robert, ye can come too if ye bring me a drink. If not, dinna bother following us.”

Claire couldn’t help but shake her head at Geillis, letting out a little laugh before turning back to him. “See you outside, I suppose,” she said, adjusting her leather jacket tighter around her body as she felt the chill of the Scottish night hit her.

The backyard seemed even crazier than the inside of the house. Bodies filled the expansive patio, dancing along to the music ( _ loud, thumping, the kind that makes you move along with it involuntarily _ ), the beginning notes of a Michael Jackson song sending shouts and clapping swirling into the air around them. Tiny white lights were strung everywhere, wrapped in the trees and along the outdoor bar, twinkling and casting a soft glow over everyone.

“Look at Joe!” Claire laughed out loud, grabbing Geillis by the arm and pointing into the crowded dance floor to a very enthusiastic Joe Abernathy moonwalking to the song, the people around him creating a wide berth for his movements.

“Come on, let’s join him,” Geillis pulled Claire by the hand, parting through the throng of people to get closer to Joe and some of their friends.

She continued to sip at her whisky, feeling the rush of the liquid through her veins ( _ both warm and cool, a liquid courage she didn’t know she needed _ ), loosening her spirits and body. She moved along to the music with Geillis, throwing her head back in laughter when Joe came to spin and dip her, his own inhibitions long gone.

She turned her head when she felt the cup in her hand being removed and replaced with a new one, Robert’s smirk filling her vision. He placed a hand on the small of her back and leaned down next to her ear, his low voice rumbling through her body. “I thought you would be ready for another drink.”

“Thanks,” her lips turned up slightly as she stepped away from him, disconcerted by his sudden appearance. The pressure from his hand increased slightly as it moved across her lower back, Claire giving him one more brief smile before moving to Geillis’ side, a newly filled cup held in her own slender hand.

Claire was unsure how many songs they had danced to or how many drinks she had been given by both Joe and Geillis before she was peeling her jacket off, the air whipping through her sheer black blouse, cooling her flushed, heated skin. She walked past Robert around a dancing couple to toss it on a table near the edge of the crowd, stumbling slightly as she turned back around to her friends.

She could feel someone watching her from the other side of the makeshift dance floor, and raised her eyes to see Jamie standing there, strong arms folded across his chest, that half-smile she loved so much curling his mouth.

He raised his eyebrows at her, before his gaze moved from her eyes down her body, slow and sweeping, leaving her feeling slightly dizzy ( _ flushed, body buzzing _ ) from the intensity of his stare. She smiled shyly when his eyes met hers again, starting to step in his direction when she felt one large hand settle just underneath her waist, the other on her elbow. She ended up turned slightly sideways, Robert saying words she couldn’t hear.

“What?” she asked, off kilter by the look in Jamie’s eyes and Robert’s hands on her body, standing on her tiptoes to hear him, his hand moving slightly further down her side.

“Do you want to dance?” he repeated, stepping in closer to her, moving them both so that Jamie was back in her line of vision. Her eyes moved back to his, whisky on blue, and she saw the way his face darkened ( _ like storm clouds rolling in unexpectedly _ ) as he took in the sight of her with Robert.

“I… no, thank you. I think I could use a break, actually. My feet are killing me,” she lied, pointing at her suede heeled booties, feeling the heat of Jamie’s stare on the both of them.

“Can I get a rain check then?” he asked earnestly, the hand that had been on her waist moving underneath her hip bone, dangerously close to the back pocket of her jeans. Her eyes flickered back to Jamie. His entire body had stiffened as he stood up to his full height ( _ intimidating, looming _ ), hands curling into fists by his side as his eyes moved from the hand that was nearly touching her ass up to Robert’s face.

She realized he was going to move before he even took a step forward. Jamie crossed through the crowd in what seemed like three steps, his chest nearly pressing against her back as she prayed for a hole to form in the ground and swallow her whole. She could feel the erratic beat of his heart from behind her when he spoke. “Ye can take yer hand off of her right now,” he said firmly, his accent thicker than normal, the threat behind his words clear.

Robert’s eyebrows furrowed as he took in Jamie’s sudden appearance. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Jamie repeated coldly. “Get yer hand off of her before I rip it off your arm.”

Robert took a small step closer to Claire, his hand tightening on her body. He lifted his chin defiantly, shoulders squaring as he met Jamie head on. “And who the hell are you?”

“I’m the guy who’s going to leave ye with only one good hand if ye dinna move back from her.  _ Now _ ,” he said it again, his voice practically a growl.

“That didn’t answer my question. Is this your boyfriend, Claire?” Robert asked, a glint in his eye as he continued to look at Jamie. “We’ve been together the whole night and you haven’t mentioned him once.”

Claire winced at his words, hesitating while she tried desperately to think of a way to diffuse the situation. “He’s… he—no, he’s not my boyfriend,” she said finally, voice stilted, Jamie’s body stiffening further behind her at her words.

“Then I think the only problem we have here is  _ you _ ,” Robert said, inclining his head towards Jamie. “Claire doesn’t need you to defend her from me. In fact, I haven’t heard her say once that she wants me to stop. We were having a…  _ great time _ together until you showed up,” he emphasized, the implication behind his words not lost on either of them. “I don’t see why that should stop just because you showed up.”

Claire felt the tension coil in Jamie’s body just before he snapped, moving Claire to the side ( _ his touch on her still gentle _ ), yanking Robert’s hand off her back before he shoved at his chest, sending him stumbling back. Jamie moved forward as Robert regained his footing, a small laugh of disbelief tumbling out of him as he launched himself at Jamie, fist swinging and missing. Jamie retaliated, his own fist making contact with Robert’s cheekbone and mouth, his head snapping to the side from the force of Jamie’s blow. The split in his lip was obvious as he stood back up to his full height, blood beginning to ooze down the corner of his mouth.

“Stop it!” Claire yelled, trying to get in between the two of them, her fingers grasping at the back of Jamie’s shirt. He tried to shrug her off, but she was persistent, wiggling her way in front of him, preventing him from getting to Robert again. “Jamie, stop!”

She put her hands on his chest, looking up to see John Grey tearing through the crowd, tugging at Jamie when he reached them, pushing him behind his own body. Feeling it was safe to turn around, she moved to Robert, fingers touching along his face and mouth to see what, if any, serious damage had been done. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he glowered at Jamie, his own fingers dabbing at the blood along his bottom lip.

“I’m so sorry,” Claire said, feeling the threatening burn of tears behind her eyelashes.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, nodding in Jamie’s direction. “He’s acting like a lunatic.”

Claire turned her head around to see Jamie’s back pushing away through the crowd, people scrambling to get out of his path. John moved past them to grab her jacket, handing it to her as he took in Robert’s bruising face. “Go after him,” he said quietly to Claire. “I’ll take care of this.”

“What?” she asked, confused by the look of urgency on John’s face as he motioned in Jamie’s direction.

“He needs you.  _ Go _ ,” he repeated. Claire swallowed hard, the memory of saying those same words to Jamie about Laoghaire just a few nights before rushing back to her, leaving her stomach in sudden knots. Her eyebrows knit together as she looked at John, who gave her an encouraging nod. His sudden interest in her earlier in the evening when they met made sense; he and Jamie were clearly friends.

“Thank you,” she said finally, turning and leaving without another word, walking back through the maze of people both outdoors and inside the house before she made it to the front door.

Her head swiveled back and forth as she looked around for Jamie’s towering figure, but he was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging back into her jacket, she started walking towards the rugby stadium off in the distance, an unsteady breath blowing out of her lips as she tried to think of what she would say when she finally found him.

She rounded a corner, her quick step faltering when she saw him staring out across the fields of the horse stables, his arms braced against the fence, shoulders taut with tension. Claire approached him slowly, scanning his face as she got closer. His gaze was unfocused ( _ far off, distant),  _ his breathing still slightly erratic.

She laid a hand on his forearm hesitantly, squeezing it gently as she waited for him to turn to her. When he finally did, she didn’t expect to see a simmering anger still burning in his eyes.

“What are ye doing here?” he asked, his tone flat as he peered over her shoulder like he was expecting someone else to appear behind her. “Shouldn’t ye be tending to yer date?”

She pulled back slightly, hurt by the tone of his voice. “I came to find you and see if you were all right. He wasn’t my date, Jamie. He’s just a guy in one of my classes. That’s it. I was there with Geillis.”

“That didna look like all it was considering his hand was just about on yer arse.”

“His hand was not on my ass, but even if it was, I can’t control what someone else does. I didn’t ask him to do that,” she said calmly, though she was struggling to keep her rapidly rising temper in check.

“Well I didna see ye complaining,” he muttered, turning his eyes back to the rolling grounds in front of them.

“What is your problem? You’re being ridiculous!” Claire snapped, grabbing his arm and forcing him to turn back to her, both of their eyes blazing.

“ _ My _ problem?” His jaw was clenched so tightly, Claire was surprised he was able to get any words out. “My problem is ye’re mine and he was touching you! That’s my problem, Claire!”

“I’m  _ yours _ ?” she repeated indignantly, a rush of anger coloring her cheeks. “What, you think I’m your property?”

“No, I dinna think ye’re my property, but I willna stand by while some other guy thinks he can touch ye and do whatever he pleases with you!”

She couldn’t help the hollow laugh that escaped from her lips, arms settling across her chest. “Well that’s rich, considering  _ you’re _ the one who has a girlfriend, Jamie.”

His face tightened and darkened at her words, his eyes flashing with what she thought was anger and some type of desperation. He was quiet for a few moments, clearing his throat before he spoke. “I ken it’s not fair for me to feel this way, but I canna help it.”

She watched him, feeling herself begin to soften as whatever internal war he was fighting flashed across his face uncontrolled. “Jamie, what is this really about?”

He reached for her hand then, and she let him take it, intertwining their fingers together. His thumb rubbed along her wrist, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips as he looked at their linked hands. “Come on,” he tugged her towards a bench on the other side of the walkway, still in view of the stable grounds, sighing deeply when they sat down together.

Claire waited for him to speak, her body angled towards his as their hands laid in her lap. He reached out and pushed a curl behind her ear, fingers brushing her cheek gently before he pulled them away. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice remorseful. “I said more than I meant.”

“I know,” she said quietly, “but what I want to know is why.”

He shook his head, eyes fixed on hers. “I went home to Lallybroch.”

“Okay...”

He nodded towards the pasture. “Ye ken the horse that took a liking to ye here? Brimstone?”

“Yes,” she answered, confused by where the conversation was going. What did that horse have to do with Jamie’s home?

“That’s one of the horses from Lallybroch… from Lallybroch  _ Farms _ , to be exact. My parents started the company when we were weans to help support our family and keep Lallybroch for themselves. They didna have any type of support from my mam’s family after they got married. My mam, Ellen… she met my da when he was visiting the Highlands one summer. She was out wandering around one of the lochs my da was visiting with a friend. He used to tell us that he thought she was a faerie when he first saw her. It was love at first sight.”

Jamie gave her a knowing look, his eyes moving across her face as he squeezed her hand. He didn’t have to say anything for Claire to know what he was thinking: that it had felt the same way for the two of them the day they met on campus. She tightened her own grip on his hand, giving him a small, encouraging smile to continue.

“My mam’s family was wealthy and my da had nothing. He never knew his father growing up, and his mother didna have much when she passed away. That didna matter to my mam, but it did to her family. The Mackenzies didna approve of the match, so they ended up running off to elope. Her parents gifted them Lallybroch, but they didna want to associate with our family beyond that. My father always felt like he had to prove to them that she didna make a mistake in choosing him.”

“It sounds like your parents are an amazing couple,” Claire said softly.

He shook his head slowly, a shaky breath coming out from deep within his chest. “They  _ were _ ,” he said regretfully. “My mam died when I was 16.”

She felt her heart jump into her throat, stomach sinking at his words. “Jamie… I’m so sorry.”

“I ken you understand how it feels, Sassenach, to lose a parent,” he gave her a small, almost rueful smile. “She passed a few years after Willie did. My da, Brian...he hasna been the same since.”

“Do you want to tell me about her?”

“She was… the warmest woman ye’d ever meet. She devoted her whole life to raising us and supporting our da. She loved tending to Lallybroch - cooking with the housekeeper using food she’d grown in the garden, helping tend to the horses and coos. She was always busy, moving about, digging in the dirt with her wee herbs, or making sure the lands were being taken care of properly. When she wasna doing that, she was chasing the three of us around, pretending to be the Loch Ness monster just to see the way we’d react. When we’d tell her he wasna real, she would laugh and say our imaginations made him real enough. She read to us before bed every single night, sometimes Burns, sometimes Harry Potter. She was an artist. Her works still hang in the halls of Lallybroch.”

He paused, his voice low and scratchy when he spoke again. “Ye remind me of her, Claire. Christ, she would have loved you.”

Claire squeezed his hand tightly at that, involuntarily, the breath seeming to rush out of her body at once. She wanted to tell him that she would have loved Ellen Fraser, too; that she wished she was still around to talk to while at dinners at Lallybroch, sharing wine and stories about Jamie when he was little. They would talk about their mutual love of classical literature and poetry, and end up wandering out to the gardens to dig up different roots and herbs. Ellen would tell Claire that her heart had never been so full as a mother because she had never seen her son happier than he was with her, with  _ Claire _ , and the words would rush out before she could stop them:  _ I have never been happier, either. I am in love with your son. He means everything to me. I don’t know what I would do if I lost him. _

She could say none of that, though. Not to Ellen Fraser’s physical person, and not to Jamie, not when something else was weighing so heavily on his heart and mind. So instead, she reached up and cupped his cheek with her other hand. He leaned into her touch, a sigh of contentment rushing out of him, filling Claire’s body with the air she had lost. “I wish I could thank her for raising such a beautiful son,” she said finally, thumb stroking his cheek back and forth ( _ tenderly, reverently _ ), Jamie squeezing her wrist in acknowledgment, his eyes beginning to glisten with moisture.

He took another shaky breath. “They were amazing parents. We never felt like we wanted for anything. But after she died, it was like something in my da died, too. He’s been obsessed with seeing the business grow, like it keeps her alive somehow.”

“And you’re going to take over when you graduate?”

She could feel the tension creeping back into his body. “I dinna have a choice. Breeding horses is a risky business. When my parents started Lallybroch Farms, they didna have much money. They went to one of my mam’s brothers to see if he would give them a loan. Although he wasna thrilled when they got married, he hadna cut them off the way my other uncle and grandparents did. He always had a soft spot for my mam. It was written in the contract between them that if Brian’s heir doesna take over the company from him, it all gets deeded to my Uncle Colum. My parents hard work, their legacy… it would be gone. Just like she is.”

“Jamie…” Claire breathed out, unsure of what to say. “I guess I don’t understand. You told me once that you’re good with horses, too. Is there something I’m missing here?”

“Taking over the company wouldna mean I actually get to run it, Sassenach. My job wouldna be working with the horses or making the day to day decisions of the business. It would be social events and parties… polo and horse races and galas. I don’t want to be a figurehead, Claire, drinking and entertaining rich people for the rest of my life like some spoiled socialite.”

“ _ Jamie’s family’s company is sponsoring the event along with the university. I imagine ye’ll see us heading off to a lot of these types of parties. One of the Fraser duties and perks. It’s good practice before we graduate and Jamie takes over for his da.”  _ The words Laoghaire had spoken to Claire the day she found out Jamie was her boyfriend came rushing back to her, realization beginning to dawn deep within her.

The way his body had stiffened at her words. The tapping of his fingers against his leg in agitation. Laoghaire turning a blind eye the day of the concert.

She could practically taste the bile rising as she swallowed hard. “How does Laoghaire fit into all of this?”

Jamie turned his head away from her, looking down at his lap. “It’s different being raised in the Highlands, ken? The towns are smaller, and everyone knows each other. People end up marrying someone they went to school with their whole life… it’s just the way it works there. That’s what happened with Jenny and Ian. Laoghaire and her family live in Broch Mordha, the town closest to Lallybroch. Her parents were friends with mine growing up. We were always in the same grade at school, but I didna pay her much attention, though looking back… I guess I can see that she was always interested in me.”

“When Laoghaire’s parents would come over for dinner, they always brought her with them. She and Jenny became really good friends, and she would come over a lot on her own, the two of them helping my mam in the kitchen or around the grounds. After she died, Jenny leaned on Laoghaire more than anyone else, save Ian. She kept encouraging me to ask her out on a date and I kept telling her no, I wasna interested.”

“Then a couple of years ago, my da threw a big Hogmanay party at Lallybroch for all of our friends and several business associates. Laoghaire and her parents were there. She asked me to dance, and I said yes. It was...nice.  _ She _ was nice. We spent the rest of the night together, just the two of us, dancing and talking. After that, I asked her out on a real date. Jenny was thrilled. My da was, too, and her parents were over the moon about it.”

“It seemed like a good fit. We’re from the same town, our families have been friends their whole lives, she’s devoted to my family and understands the demands of the business. And I was happy… or I  _ thought _ I was happy until one day I opened a door on campus and nearly ran over the most beautiful, smart, funny, amazing woman I’d ever seen in my life.”

Claire tried to swallow past the sudden lump that had formed in her throat ( _ threatening to choke her _ ), blinking away the hot, thick rush of tears behind her lashes. She couldn’t speak, but it wasn’t necessary; Jamie lifted her chin gently to meet his eyes ( _ tender, devoted, conflicted _ ) as he spoke again.

“I went home to talk to my father’s lawyer, to see if there’s any way around the contract my parents signed with my uncle, but there isn’t. I dinna ken what to do, Claire. I thought I was okay with what my life was going to look like until you opened an entire new door for me. Now I see a whole world of possibility with you.  _ You _ are my home now, but I’m terrified of disappointing my family.”

His voice was lined with desperation as he tightened his hold on her hands. She pulled him against her, pressing her lips against his temple. He sniffled at her touch, drawing her body into his, wrapping his arms around her, the scent of him ( _ soap, a hint of spice and the woods, and something else that was entirely Jami _ e) enveloping her securely, her own arms clinging to his waist.

“It’ll be okay,” she murmured into his chest, voice muffled by his shirt.

She fought the urge to drown in the thought that swam into her mind, unbidden: that he was her home, too, but that home was already lost.


	7. and i could fight, but what's the use?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW.

Claire was a problem solver. She couldn’t remember not being one; forced into a nomadic lifestyle at such a young age with her uncle, she was forced to learn how to make decisions and rely on herself as she led a very independent childhood. She thought this attribute was what would make her a good surgeon one day: the ability to use her brain and hands to make a diagnosis, come up with a plan of action, and execute it. She never doubted herself in her nursing rotations as she worked with patients, helping them determine what treatments they needed to survive and then thrive. It was simply something she felt born to do ( _ innate, predestined _ ). 

And yet those natural instincts were absolutely failing her when it came to Jamie.

He had poured his heart out to her days before, the air and stable grounds around them feeling like a confessional as he told her about his parents and their family business, and about how he came to date Laoghaire, a girl who seemed like a natural addition to the Fraser family ( _ his sister’s best friend, the daughter of a couple his parents loved _ ). There was nothing simple about his situation: he was bound to both their company and Laoghaire by contracts and obligation, by the fear his family would reject him or love him less if he chose his own path, by deep rooted tradition and a way of life in the Highlands that Claire wasn’t a part of.

So she had spent the last several nights in the same position she was in now: lying on her back in her bedroom, staring at her ceiling, trying to figure out how she and Jamie could return to the lives they had before the library door had opened weeks before. To a time where she was starting fresh, focused on her studies and her future; to a time where Jamie was settled, resolute in his convictions to honor his parents and their work, and seemingly whole with someone else. To a time where there was no  _ them _ .

The thought sent a wave of nausea coursing through her body.

She knew deep down it was impossible to go back; that they had opened something within each other that could never be closed or replicated. She also knew that the path Jamie wanted to take could rip his entire family apart. That knowledge weighed on her, a gnawing feeling that simply wouldn’t go away, one that she recognized as deep seeded fear ( _ of the unknown, of him choosing her, of him  _ **_not_ ** _ choosing her, of regret _ ). So she had retreated to her room every night to think, to  _ plan _ , mostly ignoring Jamie’s texts and calls.

She was home alone for the weekend, Laoghaire having gone off to tend to “family matters,” with a quip to Claire to enjoy having the apartment to herself. She was grateful to be alone, but she felt like she was drowning in self-made misery, her heart and head at war as she fought the urge to grab her phone and text Jamie.

The doorbell rang, dragging her away from her thoughts, a knock following a few moments later. Claire groaned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed so she could make her way to the entryway. She padded down the hallway, cursing when the doorbell rang again, once, twice more, followed immediately by another round of incessant pounding on the front door. She flung it open, a snarl on her face as she prepared to release her bad mood out on whoever was on the other side. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re—,” she faltered when she saw who was standing there, “—doing?” she finished weakly.

Jamie pushed past her into the apartment, not saying a word, moving towards the living room. He leaned back against the couch as he waited for her to lock the door back up and follow him, his arms crossed across his chest, mouth set in a grim line.

Claire took a deep, steadying breath as she shut the door and turned the lock, one palm resting flat against the solid wood. She walked slowly back to the living room, making sure to keep a few feet between herself and Jamie. She crossed her own arms ( _ defensively, protectively _ ), meeting his eyes with trepidation. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

His eyebrows shot up at her words, disbelief written clearly across his face. “How would ye? Ye’ve been avoiding me.”

She dropped her arms down in front of her, playing with the cuffs of her sleeves, twisting and tugging them down over her wrists. “I just thought it was for the best,” she said quietly, deflated, barely meeting his eyes.

“How could you ignoring me be the best thing for anyone, Claire? I’ve been going fucking crazy worrying about you, missing you, wanting to see you. Christ, don’t ye understand?”

“You’re the one who doesn’t understand, Jamie!  _ This _ ,” she motioned between the two of them, “can’t continue. You know it as well as I do, even if you don’t want to admit it right now. You have obligations and responsibilities to your family, and...and expectations placed on you and your future. I won’t ruin that. I won’t ruin  _ you _ .”

She could feel tears beginning to prickle the corners of her eyes, and she blinked hard, trying to keep them at bay. Jamie was staring at her in wonder, the tension in his body sagging as he moved away from the couch, taking a tentative step towards her.

“Ye dinna actually understand, Sassenach,” his voice was low, thick with emotion. “The only thing that would ruin me is losing you.”

He moved in front of her then, his thumb moving to caress the tender spot at the apple of her cheekbone, sweeping down her cheek to the swell of her bottom lip. “You’re everything to me, Claire.”

She wanted to tell him she couldn’t be, that they were headed for a free fall where the landing was nothing but pain and disappointment for both of them. She knew she should open her mouth and speak, protest, make him see that there were bigger forces at play than just their feelings for each other.

But both of his hands were now cupping her face, his fingertips both rough and smooth against her skin at the same time, urging her head closer to his own. Her heart began to beat faster, aching to get out of her chest, to find its place for safekeeping beside Jamie’s own. She gripped his wrists, a sound somewhere between a whimper and an exhale coming out of her mouth as she said his name. “Jamie…”

“God, I want to kiss you,” he whispered. He paused a hair’s breadth away from her lips, his eyes piercing into hers. She met them, aware that he was asking for permission, for her to say it was okay, to say  _ yes _ .

It would always be yes for him.

She felt her eyes flutter shut, and then she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips against his for the first time, her hands curling against the muscles of his chest as their mouths came together.

It was like pouring gasoline on a slow burning fire waiting to explode and lighting a match.

His hands moved just behind her neck, pulling her body flush with his. He angled his mouth against hers, his lips warm and soft, his tongue running along her bottom lip, asking for entry. She opened to him immediately, their tongues tangling together as she gripped at the front of his shirt ( _ trying to pull him closer _ ), a small whimper leaving her as she began to pull his shirt up, seeking out the feel of his skin beneath her fingers.

He let out a breathy moan when she scraped her fingernails over the taut muscles of his stomach, her palms flattening to rub over his chest, feeling the soft, wiry hairs there. Jamie broke their kiss, moving his mouth to her neck as his hands tangled in her hair, pulling it as he sought better access, a slight hiss parting Claire’s lips from the pang of both pain and pleasure.

He sucked hard on her neck, soothing it with his tongue, his body flush with hers as he began to move them away from the couch. Claire nearly stumbled but Jamie’s hands moved to her waist, steadying her, pushing her back up against a wall, his mouth covering hers again. Bodies glued together, Claire could feel his desire for her pulsing against her, her body starting to grind against his unconsciously.

Pure adrenaline was rushing through her veins as she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and yanked up, wrenching her mouth from his to get it over his head before she tossed it behind him, where it landed on the floor in a crumpled heap. She took a moment to look at him, the beat of her heart pounding in her ears, before she tentatively reached out and touched one of his nipples. Jamie made a noise deep within his throat before his eyes closed, his already heavy breathing becoming shallow. His eyes were hooded as he opened them again to meet her own, lust and love reflected clearly in them. His hands slid up from her waist along the edges of her body, stopping at her breasts. His thumbs moved underneath the curves of them, touching her through her shirt and bra.

She kept her eyes locked on his, fighting the urge to close them as she arched into his touch, her mouth falling slightly open as she licked at her lips. His gaze flickered down to watch her tongue dart in and out, his chest starting to heave underneath her hands. His thumbs moved over her covered nipples, circling them; she drew in a sharp breath when Jamie reached down for the hem of her sweatshirt, meeting her eyes for confirmation ( _ receiving it) _ before he tugged it over her head, meeting its partner on the floor.

He swallowed hard at the sight of her in her lacy bra, eyes intent. He cupped one breast with his hand, feeling the full weight of her, a deep sigh leaving her lips at his touch. He squeezed gently before his fingers trailed over the flesh spilling out of the top of the cups, bending his head to lick and bite at her skin. Her head fell back against the wall, her fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, a squeak coming out of her lips as he moved one strap off her shoulder to lift part of her bra away from her body, his tongue flicking around her.

“Jamie,” she breathed out, her hands moving his head up so he could look at her, his eyes dark with desire. “Do you want me?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, grabbing her hand and laying it against his chest so she could feel the pounding of his heart, the way it beat only for her ( _ because of her _ ).

“Then have me,” she said simply.

He sealed his mouth over hers, tongue sliding past her lips to be met by her own, her hands pulling at the back of his neck. Jamie slid his hands down her back before he cupped her bottom, lifting up as she wrapped her legs around his waist, his hands never moving from her ass. She tightened her grip on him and he let out a moan, kissing along her jawline before reaching her ear.

“Ye ken this arse was made for my hands, don’t ye?” he whispered hotly, his teeth biting down on the soft part of her earlobe.

“Yes,” she whimpered, her head rolling to one side of her shoulder as he fastened his mouth to her neck again. “Show me what else was made for you.”

He groaned against her skin, turning from their spot to walk towards Claire’s bedroom, carrying her as if she was weightless, stepping out of his shoes along the way. He kicked the door shut behind them with one foot, moving to lay Claire down on her bed, his body looming over hers.

Her curls fanned out over her pillow, brown and auburn and gold contrasting against the white linen of her sheets. Jamie brushed a curl out of her eyes, his touch gentle, before he reached for the waistband of her leggings, fingertips curling along the inside of the material.

He started to take them off of her slowly, her hips lifting from the bed as he rolled them over her hips and bottom, peeling them away from her legs as his fingers trailed along her skin. He inhaled sharply as he took in the sight of her in nothing but her underwear, lip tucked between her bottom teeth as she watched him watch her.

“What?” she asked finally, fighting the urge to grab the top of her comforter and hide herself underneath it as his eyes continued to roam over her body.

“Christ, Claire. You literally take my breath away.”

Claire flushed at his words, a smile curving her lips, matching the one on Jamie’s face. She reached out a hand for him, pulling him down towards her, leaning up to meet his lips halfway. She let go of his hand to reach for the belt buckle of his jeans, sliding the thick brown leather strap out of its belt loop. “Fair is fair. Take these off,” she mumbled against his lips.

He quickly took his pants off, leaving him standing next to her in only his boxer briefs, the muscles of his thighs taut, the evidence of his desire for her obvious. Claire felt her breath hitch at the sight of him, reaching over to run one hand up his thigh ( _ slow, teasing _ ), her fingers brushing gently before she cupped the length of him, a noise somewhere between a groan and growl coming from his mouth.

He let her touch him for a minute before he grabbed her wrist, putting her arms above her head on the bed. He moved on top of her, his lips brushing against hers before he moved down to her neck, licking his way back to her breasts. He sucked at the delicate skin, his hands moving around to Claire’s back as she arched into him, deftly unclasping her bra.

He pulled the straps down her arms slowly before he removed it, letting it fall to the floor. “Jesus,” he whispered, before he dipped his head and took one breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling around her nipple. One hand came up to alternately caress and pull at the other, a moan coming out of Claire at the sensations he was producing inside her.

Her hips bucked against his as he moved his mouth to her other side, her hands running down the broad, smooth planes of Jamie’s shoulders and back, fingernails digging and scraping as he used his teeth on her. She could feel the heat pooling between her legs, the feel of Jamie’s arousal pressed against her ( _ hard, pulsing _ ) making her feel desperate.

His mouth moved to her stomach, pressing gentle kisses there before he stopped and met her eyes, his fingers slipping into the sides of her lace underwear. He pulled them down, Claire kicking them off her feet, his gaze never leaving hers.

“I want you,” she whispered, her legs spreading apart as he moved over her body, his mouth hovering over hers. She tried to catch his lips but he pulled back, just barely, a smile playing on his lips at the small whine that left her throat. One large hand moved over her knee and thigh, fingers trailing along the inside path of her skin until he reached the very center of her, touching her lightly.

“Ye’re so wet.” He made a noise that could only be described as satisfied,  _ hungry _ , as he continued to tease her. He took one finger and slowly slid it into her, his thumb finding her clit as he began to move both fingers together, Claire’s head falling back against the pillow, her eyes squeezing shut.

He inserted another finger, increasing his pace, his eyes fixed on her face as he watched her. Claire could hear the way her breathing had changed ( _ panting, erratic _ ), her heart pounding as sounds she didn’t know she was capable of making came out of her mouth. “Jamie… I want you inside me,” she managed to get out, her hands clutching at his body.

“Not yet, mo nighean donn,” he breathed against her mouth, his thumb continuing to circle around her most sensitive spot.

Her body was beginning to buzz, her mind fuzzy as she felt herself start to clench around his fingers, her hips rotating of their own accord. “Aye, come for me, Claire,” Jamie whispered, murmuring words of encouragement that she could hear but couldn’t understand, her mind and body separating as he flicked his thumb against her again and she broke, fingernails digging into his skin.

She reached for his face when her body stopped shuddering, drawing his lips down to hers. Their legs tangled together, bodies touching all along their fronts, one of Jamie’s hands caressing the curve of her hip and thigh. Claire moved one hand down his chest and abdomen, fingers touching the hairs there before she slid past his boxers, taking him fully in her hand.

He groaned, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth as she stroked the length of him, feeling the large vein pulsing there. She touched the tip of him, wet and straining, his fingers tightening on her hips as his own pushed against her. Claire pulled at the waistband of his boxers, taking them off him, swallowing hard at the sight of him, throbbing with need ( _ for her _ ) against his stomach.

She swung a leg over him, straddling his body, her head dipping down to kiss the skin of his neck, wanting to mark him the way he had marked her ( _ mine, yours, us _ ). She pulled back to touch his pulse point before fastening her mouth to it, sucking hard, then biting at the curve of his shoulder as his hands grasped her waist. His eyes opened to watch as she kissed and licked her way down his chest before she took him in her mouth, delicately, her tongue coming out to swirl around the tip of him.

His hips lifted off the mattress, a sound stuck between a moan and a groan leaving his lips. She took him deeper into her mouth, sucking, his hands tangling in her curls. When she used her teeth to scrape against him lightly, he bucked hard against her, both of them fighting to control their breathing.

She felt a thrill rush through her at the knowledge that he was completely under her power, his body belonging to her ( _ only her) _ as she worked him over, tongue and teeth and lips and hands. A startled gasp escaped her as he pulled her off him, flipping them over so he was on top of her.

“I need to be in you,” he practically growled, her breath catching as she saw the look in his eyes ( _ dark with lust, almost wild _ ), his knee nudging her thighs apart to line himself up with her.

They both let out shuddering breaths when he slowly pushed himself inside, Claire wrapping her legs around his waist as she felt her body adjust to his. Jamie buried his face in her neck, his mouth open and hot against her skin as he groaned at the feeling of filling her completely.

She pushed up, urging him to move inside her, their hips beginning to meet again and again as Jamie thrust against her, their bodies slick with sweat. Her hands moved to the firm roundness of his ass, pressing him against her harder as she sought more friction. A cry fell from her lips when Jamie reached down between them, his thumb circling her clit. “Don’t stop,” she managed to moan out, her hips lifting to meet his.

He managed to angle her body  _ just so _ , hitting places inside of her she didn’t know existed. She could feel herself tightening around him, her legs beginning to shake as Jamie’s body began to move at an almost frantic pace against hers.

“Oh  _ god _ , Jamie,” she moaned. With one more hard thrust, she shattered around him, her arms clinging around his neck as her body arched up into his, white spots bursting into light behind her eyes. Jamie followed moments later, words she didn’t understand ( _ in a language she didn’t know _ ) falling from his mouth like a prayer.

They collapsed against each other, bodies still joined together, both trying to catch their breath. One of Jamie’s hands stroked languidly along her body, brushing over the curve of her breast before sliding up to cup her face. He pressed his lips to hers, once, twice, before opening his eyes to meet hers.

She couldn’t have stopped the smile that spread across her face if her life depended on it. She let out a little giggle when he smiled back at her, stroking his cheek, both letting out little sighs when he pulled out of her, gathering her in his arms as he turned to his side, both of them spent.

She felt a warm, gentle kiss on her neck, and then her shoulder blade, as she fought to keep her eyes open. Jamie’s hand came around to rest on her breast, his body snuggled in tightly against the back of hers. “Sleep, mo nighean donn,” he whispered, burying his nose in her curls. She kissed the inside of his wrist before she drifted off to the sound of Jamie whispering in a language she hoped was only for her.

__________

She woke sometime later to the feel of fingertips caressing the lines of her body, moving from her shoulder down her arm and along the curve of her hip. They trailed softly back up, one large hand moving the curls off her neck and shoulder to be replaced by Jamie’s lips. She hummed, burrowing her bottom deeper into him, feeling the rumble in his chest underneath her.

She glanced over her shoulder, her mouth curving up as he placed another kiss on her forehead. He had one elbow propped up on the mattress, his head leaning against his hand as he leaned back to look at her. “Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi,” he leaned forward to press his lips against hers.

“Have I been sleeping long?”

“Nay, maybe an hour or so. Did ye ken ye snore?”

“I do not!” she swatted at his arm as he laughed, nuzzling at her neck when Claire turned away from him, pretending to be offended.

“Aye, ye do. Ye’re a verra noisy woman, Sassenach. I like all the sounds ye make.” He raised his eyebrows at her suggestively, eyes twinkling as a smirk spread across his face.

“Stop it,” she blushed, turning over so they were facing each other, linking their hands together. “That reminds me… you called me something earlier.  _ Mo nighean donn _ . What does that mean?”

He reached out with his other hand to brush a curl back from her face. “It means my brown haired lass in Gaelic,” he said, running his hand through her strands of hair. “I dinna think I’ve ever told ye how much I love yer hair, Claire. It changes colors when the light hits it… all different shades of brown and gold. My curly wig.”

She leaned forward and kissed him firmly on the mouth, tenderly rubbing his cheek when she pulled back. “What else were you saying to me in Gaelic? I couldn’t understand anything at the end.”

He made that Scottish noise in the back of his throat, a half smile curving his lips. “I dinna remember half of what I said, Sassenach. Ye very nearly  _ literally _ blew my mind.”

She laughed out loud at that, resting her head on her pillow. Her room was mostly dark, save for the soft glow of moonlight peeking through the curtains of her window. Jamie looked more beautiful than usual ( _ like he was bathed in candlelight _ ) as they fell quiet and watched each other, hands and fingertips stroking back and forth.

“Claire?” he broke the silence, his hands stilling momentarily against her skin.

“Yes?”

“Do ye remember when I told ye I’m afraid of disappointing my family?”

She swallowed hard at his question before she nodded.

“I dinna want ye to think I’m playing ye false. I ken there are decisions to be made, things I have to do that willna be easy. It’s just that for so long…,” he let out a shaky breath, “I’ve been so many different things to so many different people. I was ‘son’ to my mam and da, and ‘brother’ to Willie and Jenny. ‘Heir’ to my parents’ company then after Willie died. ‘Uncle’ to Jenny and Ian’s children, and ‘boyfriend’ to Laoghaire and her family.”

His hand stroked her hair as his eyes focused in on hers, whisky on blue. “But here,” he said softly, a look of utter tenderness on his face, “here in the dark, with you... I have no name.”

She kissed him then, wrapping herself around him, feeling the beat of his heart against her own.

_ Home _ .


	8. you could break my heart in two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts off NSFW.

Claire woke the next morning, limbs and heart tangled around Jamie, her head nestled against his chest. His arms were wrapped securely around her, one large hand beginning to stroke up and down her naked back as she stirred. She let out a contented sigh before pressing her lips against his chest, his skin warm and firm beneath her.

He kissed the top of her head, snuggling both of them further underneath the covers. The hand that had been innocently trailing along her spine continued its exploration south, landing on the round of her ass. She raised her head to look at him, chin resting on his chest. The hint of a smirk was on his face, his eyes still closed.

“Your hand is on my ass,” she said, biting down on her bottom lip as she tried to hide a smile.

He popped one eye open to look at her before shutting it again. “Aye,” he said, his hand rubbing over her bottom, smirk widening, “I told ye this arse was made for my hands. I’m just holding on to what’s mine.”

“Yours, huh? Is that so?”

“Mmhmm,” he smiled, burrowing his head deeper into the pillow.

She let her hand, which had been rubbing circles on his chest, move down, her fingers just skimming the surface of his skin ( _ over the tight muscles of his abdomen and the bones of his pelvis _ ) before she lightly touched the hard length of him. He hissed in a breath when she wrapped her hand around him, beginning to stroke up and down. “Jesus, Claire.”

“What?” she asked innocently, leaning towards his ear to whisper huskily into it, “I’m just holding on to what’s mine, too.”

He groaned, sealing his mouth to hers as he used his hands to pull her on top of him, her curls falling forward around her face. She pushed against his chest with one hand to sit up and straddle him, both of them letting out sighs of satisfaction when she settled on top of him, bringing him deep inside her.

She ground her hips against him once, slowly, smiling at the breathless sound he made. His hands slid up her thighs to rest on her hips, urging her forward. “Do that again, Sassenach.”

“Not so fast. I’m the one in charge here,” she teased, leaning forward to press a soft kiss against his chest before letting her tongue dart out to lick at his nipple. His fingers dug into her hips at her ministrations, and he tried to push up with his hips, looking for more friction.

“Dinna tease me or I’ll be forced to take matters into my own hands,” he quirked an eyebrow at her, letting go of one hip to slap playfully at her bottom.

She let out a gasp at the slight burning sensation his hand had left on her ass, sitting back up so that she ground against him again, a whimper falling from both of their mouths at the feeling of him reaching deeper inside her.

“Did ye like that?” he drawled out, his breathing becoming shallow as he moved with her, her hips slow and languid against his own.

“Yes,” she sighed, her eyes closing shut as she began to move faster against Jamie. “Is that how you’re going to punish me for teasing you?”

“Only if ye ask me to,” he breathed back, reaching between them with one hand to find her clit, circling it with his thumb.

Claire let out a hiss, fingernails scraping along Jamie’s chest, leaving red marks in their wake. His thumb stopped rubbing and she opened her eyes to meet his, whisky on blue, a smirk curling his lips.

Her words turned his cocky little half smile into what could only be described as a shit eating grin.

“I’m asking.”

__________

There was no basking in an afterglow that lasted all day; Jamie’s phone began lighting up with notifications when he finally crawled out of bed and turned it on, a low voiced “ _ shit _ ,” coming out as he read his text messages.

“What’s wrong?” Claire asked, rolling onto her side to watch him, letting out a whistle at his naked form standing in her bedroom. He shot her a look before returning his eyes back to the screen, though she couldn’t help but notice how his ears turned pink, a pleased little smile playing on his lips at her attention.

“I wanted to stay here all day with ye, Sassenach, but I’m going to have to get going. I got a few messages from... _ her _ . She’s coming home early. Some emergency at the art gallery.”

An awkward silence filled the room. Claire wasn’t sure what would have sucked the air out of the room faster: Jamie actually saying Laoghaire’s name, or saying “ _ her _ ” the way he did. She licked her suddenly dry lips, pulling Jamie’s plaid blanket ( _ the one she had taken from the rugby stadium _ ) up to cover her naked chest.

“Okay. I’ll just...I’ll see you later then,” she said finally, fingers playing with an imaginary loose thread.

He sat down beside her on the bed, the mattress sinking underneath his weight. He touched her cheek gently before he tilted her chin up, his eyes watching her intently. “I’m sorry. But I promise you I’m going to make this right.”

She nodded, turning her head to kiss the inside of his wrist, hoping he wouldn’t see the tears that were starting to burn behind her eyes. “You should get going.”

“Aye,” he said, reaching down to give her a lingering kiss. “Will ye meet me at the rugby stadium tonight?”

“Sure,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him again. “Text me the time.”

“Okay,” he said softly, kissing the tip of her nose before he stood back up. He got dressed while Claire watched, giving her a smile and something resembling a wink before he grabbed her doorknob to leave. “Ye look good under the Fraser colors, mo ghraidh.”

“Thank you,” she smiled back. “But what does that mean?  _ Mo ghraidh _ ?”

“I’ll tell ye later. See ye tonight, Sassenach.”

__________

Claire had fallen asleep after Jamie had left, waking up a couple of hours before she was supposed to meet him. She got up to take a shower and get dressed, hoping she would be able to get out of the apartment before Laoghaire returned home. She didn’t know how she was going to manage to be around the girl without her face giving away everything that had happened, and she didn’t intend to find out.

She mentally cursed at the thought of how much money she was going to lose by changing apartments, but she knew she couldn’t live there anymore. She turned the hair dryer on in her bedroom, feeling like she was in a race against time as she tried to tame her riot of curls. Some twenty minutes later she turned it off, satisfied that her hair was finally dry and wouldn’t cause her to get frostbite outside. She grabbed a coat from her closet, planning to kill some time at the library if necessary.

She stopped short when she left her bedroom, the lights in the kitchen on as Laoghaire sat at the table, teacup and saucer next to her. She must have come home while the hair dryer was on; Claire never heard her come in.

“Oh, Claire, you’re still home.” Laoghaire smiled, giving Claire a brief once over, taking in her jeans, sweater, and jacket slung over her arm. “Heading out for the night?”

“Yes, in a little while,” Claire managed a small smile back, hoping her discomfort wasn’t obvious. “How was your trip? I didn’t expect you to be back until tomorrow.”

“Och, I ken,” Laoghaire rolled her eyes, “but there was an emergency at the art gallery I intern at, so I had to come home. I’m dead on my feet, but I’m trying to finalize some details for this baby shower I’m planning before I head to bed.”

Claire glanced over the materials strewn across the kitchen table: pictures of butterflies and fairies, little fawns and brambles of trees and flowers, fabric swatches in colors of green and cream and pink. “This looks lovely. Whose baby shower are you planning?”

“It’s for Jamie’s sister, Jenny. I ken it’s no’ usual to have another party when it’s the second bairn, but she and Ian are having a girl this time around. She’s already asked me to be godmother to this wee one, and I couldna resist spoiling her.”

Claire did her best to keep her face straight and neutral, though her stomach dropped at the knowledge that Laoghaire was considered to be such a guaranteed part of the Fraser family moving forward that she was asked to be godmother. “That’s quite an honor,” she said finally.

“Aye. Wee Jamie calls me Auntie already, but it somehow feels more official being godmother to one of the children, ken? I’ve been verra lucky that the Frasers have taken me in the way they have. Ye never ken how ye’ll fit in with another person’s family when ye start dating them, even if ye’ve known them yer whole life. Have ye ever had that with a boyfriend?”

“No… not really. My ex, Frank… he didn’t have any siblings. I met his parents once for dinner and they were lovely, but they weren’t a close knit family. Perhaps that was because Frank was several years older than me, or maybe it’s because they were so quintessentially British. Stiff upper lip and all that, you know?” She was desperately uncomfortable; she did not want to speak of Frank, or their relationship, or why they broke up.

Laoghaire made a noise of acknowledgment deep in her throat. “To the Frasers, family means everything. After Jenny and Jamie’s mam died, weel… they struggled for quite a while. It was unexpected, and took a terrible toll on all of them, especially their da, Brian. He would do anything for his family. Both he and Ellen instilled that same sense of honor and loyalty in both of their children. I canna imagine what it would do to him if something happened to further break apart their family. It would destroy him.”

Claire bit down on her bottom lip as she struggled against the rising feelings of doubt and insecurity Laoghaire’s words were causing. “Did you know Jamie’s mother well?”

“Aye. She and my mam were best friends, and Jenny and I used to follow her everywhere around the grounds of their home. But the best days with Ellen were the ones where she would take me and Jenny up to her art studio. She’d try to teach us to paint and talk to us about the different artists she loved. She’s the reason I decided to major in art history. Jamie’s family’s company sponsors a lot of art shows now, to honor Ellen’s memory. Once we graduate, I plan on helping with that part of the business while Jamie takes over the rest. Brian is thrilled. He said he couldna ask for a better match for Jamie. We’ll be a real team, both dedicated to seeing the business continue to thrive. Jamie will need someone with him at all the social events he’ll need to attend, and my job with them will allow me that flexibility right away.”

Claire could feel the bile rising from her stomach, but she swallowed hard, clearing her throat before she spoke. “It sounds like you’ve got everything figured out.”

“Like I said, the Frasers have made it easy,” Laoghaire gave her a little shrug. “And you, Claire? Four years of medical school after ye graduate this year, aye?”

“Yes,” Claire tried to smile. “And my residency after that.”

“Goodness, ye’re braver than me. I canna wait to be done with school. I certainly canna imagine being tied to classes and a crazy schedule for the next four to seven years of my life. How will ye have time for anything else?”

“It won’t be easy, but being a doctor has been my dream for as long as I can remember. I suppose it’s like with anything else: you make time for what’s important when you can.”

“I’m sure ye’ll be just great at it. I didna mean to snoop, but I was sorting through the mail a few days ago and saw ye got a large packet from Harvard’s medical school, all the way in America. Boston, right?”

“Yes,” Claire said stiffly. “It was one of my top choices.”

“Wow. From London to Scotland and then all the way across the pond to America. It would be hard for ye to travel back and forth with all the work ye’ll be doing. Is that why you and Frank broke up?” Laoghaire asked, reaching for the cup of tea next to her on the table, picking it up and taking a sip as she watched Claire over the rim of the porcelain.

“What?” Claire asked, disconcerted by her interest in the topic.

“He called the apartment last week, wanting to check up on ye. He was worried that ye moved from London so hastily, that maybe ye werena adjusting well, making friends. He sounded very concerned. We had a long conversation. I assured him ye seemed to be getting along  _ just fine _ .”

Claire stared into Laoghaire’s eyes, such a pale, glassy blue ( _ cold, like ice _ ), fixed on Claire’s own as she waited for a reaction. She felt the tension creeping up her spine and neck, her hand gripping the back of one of the kitchen chairs so tightly her knuckles began to turn white. “I wish I could say a potential move to Boston for medical school was what broke us up, but no, it wasn’t.”

“Was it Sandy then?” Laoghaire took another sip of her tea before she continued, not waiting for a response from Claire. “I canna imagine what it must have felt like for ye to walk in on yer boyfriend - someone ye thought ye had a real future with - screwing someone else senseless. Ye must have felt so betrayed.”

Claire inhaled sharply, trying to mask the shock she knew was written across her face. “He told you about that?”

“Aye. He sounded remorseful that ye found them the way ye did. He said ye didna even say a word; ye just walked out of his office, packed yer things from his house and moved out. He said ye left for Scotland as soon as ye could. No big fight. No screaming or tears. It was just...  _ over _ . And I wonder how ye did it, Claire. Did ye no’ want answers from him? Did ye no’ wonder what it was about  _ her _ that was worth him losing  _ you _ ? Didn’t ye want to confront the woman who did her best to take what was rightfully yers, just like I’m doing right now?”

Claire froze at her words, her heart starting to hammer in her chest ( _ wild, out of control _ ) as she stared down at her roommate, her blue eyes hard and angry, her cheeks turning a vivid shade of pink against her pale skin and blonde hair. “Laoghaire…”

“Do ye think I’m blind, Claire? Do ye think I havena seen the way Jamie looks at you, the way he  _ gravitates _ towards you? He’s been finding ways of bringing ye into our conversations for weeks now. At first I thought he was just trying to get to know his girlfriend’s new roommate. Trying to be interested, ken? But then I saw the two of ye together at the concert, and I kent what was really going on. Christ, his hands were all over yer arse. If I hadna shown up when I did, he would have had ye flat on yer back in front of that entire crowd.”

Claire felt like she was choking as she tried to swallow down the rising tide of panic, desperate to get oxygen back into her lungs. “Laoghaire, I… we didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I did my best to fight it, but it just...” she trailed off, words failing her.

Laoghaire stared at her, arms crossed across her chest. “Ye did yer best, did ye? What does yer worst look like then? I ken ye may think ye’re in love with him. But are ye willing to give up yer own dreams to support Jamie and his family? To dedicate yerself to their business and way of life? Because if ye aren’t, and ye let Jamie walk away from his birthright to be with you, it will destroy his family and ultimately destroy him, too. Ye may have told yerself otherwise, but I love him. And I am ready and willing to be there to support him every step of the way. Can you say the same when ye’ll be thousands of miles away for years to come?”

Her words cut like a knife. “I don’t know,” she answered finally, blinking back the tears that were blurring her vision.

“I think ye do. We  _ both _ do.”

Claire shook her head slightly, eyes fixed on the floor, dazed. “I should go.” She took a step back from the table and moved towards the front door, stopping when Laoghaire’s voice called after her.

“Was he good?”

She turned slowly, meeting Laoghaire’s gaze directly. “Excuse me?”

“I think I deserve to ken that much at least. Lord knows he hasna touched me in weeks since  _ you _ showed up. So tell me.  _ Was he any good _ ?”

They stared at each other, the silence engulfing both of them. Claire could feel the rush and pound of her bloodstream in her ears, and wondered vaguely if Laoghaire could hear it, too. She wanted to tell her that she could still feel the pulse of Jamie inside her ( _ the way he stretched and filled her completely _ ); that the bruises darkening the front and back of her hips were in the shape of his fingerprints, marking her as his; that if she closed her eyes, she could still taste him in and on her mouth and feel the way his skin felt underneath hers as they melted into each other as one.

But she wouldn’t say any of that. She  _ couldn’t _ . Her gaze flickered over Laoghaire’s face as the blonde stood up, daring her to lie, to deny it ever happened. When she opened her mouth to speak, her voice was steady.

"Yes."

Then she turned and walked away, pulling the door open and walking through it into the cold Scottish night, letting the wind wash over her heated face, slamming it shut behind her on Laoghaire, her words ringing in her ears.

She made it down the street and around the corner before she doubled over, bent at the waist with her hands on her knees, willing herself not to throw up as she dry heaved into the hedges. She took several deep, calming breaths before wiping at the tears that had slipped down her cheeks, straightening back up and clearing her throat. She forced herself to move forward, to walk towards the rugby stadium ( _ towards Jamie _ ), feeling like she was detached from her body the whole way.

She stopped when she finally reached the fence of the stable grounds, walking forward to rest her hands on the smooth wood posts and rails. She wondered if Lallybroch had similar fencing; if Laoghaire ever stood against them like Claire was doing now, staring out into a future that held a thriving business and Jamie at the helm, Laoghaire proudly by his side? Had Jamie ever come up behind her while the wind whipped at her hair to wrap his arms around her, keeping her warm and protected from the elements? Had he pulled her hair away from her face and nuzzled into her neck, whispering words of love and desire, like he had done to Claire just hours before?

She didn’t want to admit it, but Laoghaire had tapped into her deepest fear: that Jamie would make a decision that would cause nothing but pain for his family; that he would wake up one day to discover he hated himself ( _ and her _ ) for it. She would never be able to live with herself knowing she was the reason his family business went into the hands of another, to a person who hadn’t supported Jamie’s parents in their marriage or family.

And even if Jamie decided to move forward as planned and take over for his father, she ( _ Claire _ ) would not be able to support him in the day to day dealings of his life and work. She was not prepared to give up her dream of attending medical school, of becoming a doctor like she had longed to be her whole life. She knew she would have to spend countless hours every day studying; and if she ended up an ocean away from him, they would spend years living a half-life together, only having FaceTime and text messages and the occasional stolen weekend together to build some semblance of a relationship. Even if she stayed in Scotland, she would have precious little time to attend social gatherings and events, to plan charitable galas for art galleries about which she knew absolutely nothing.

But Laoghaire could. Laoghaire was prepared to be the support for Jamie that he needed. She was ready to make his life comfortable, easy; to take his proffered arm at a fancy dinner where they were dressed in their finest, wining and dining important people who would continue to help make Lallybroch Farms a success; to continue to seamlessly exist as a member of his family, where his father and sister already loved and accepted her; to exist in large part only to make Jamie happy.

She glanced down at her watch, letting out a shaky breath when she saw the time. She forced herself away from the fence, pulling her coat tighter around her body as she turned to walk the rest of the distance to the rugby stadium to meet Jamie. She unlocked the gate when she reached it, listening to its gentle creak as she opened it, swinging it quietly closed behind her. She couldn’t help but remember how she had felt the last time she had come here: hopeful, excited, the rush of anticipation at seeing Jamie and spending time alone with him sending her flying towards him and the stairs.

Now, she felt like she was walking towards a hostage situation, her own hand holding the gun that was trained on her body, waiting to shoot.

She made it to the top of the bleachers before Jamie and sat down, tilting her head up towards the sky. Her Uncle Lamb had told her after her parents died that whenever she needed to feel their presence, she need only look up to the sky.  _ “They’re amongst the stars now, love,” he had said gently. “They will never cease to exist.”  _ She swallowed hard, wondering if they were watching now. If they were, would they be proud of her? Or would they feel shame that their only child had been so weak and lost in her own desires that she had nearly acted as a wrecking ball to another person’s relationship and life, like Frank’s mistress had been to hers?

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear Jamie approaching until his hand was on hers, pulling her to stand in front of him. Her other hand went up to her chest, palm flattening against the sudden increased thumping of her heart as she gasped.

“You alright?” Jamie laughed at the way she had startled. “I didna mean to scare ye.”

“Yes,” she smiled weakly. “I was just in a daze, I guess. I’m sorry.”

“Ye dinna need to apologize. C’mere. I missed ye all day.” He pulled her body flush against his, his big hands cupping her face gently ( _ reverently _ ). He covered her mouth with his, lips pressed together as they breathed each other in.

Claire couldn’t help but melt into him, her body acting on pure instinct as he moved to deepen their kiss. His tongue sought hers, a sigh of contentment leaving his mouth as she opened up to him, his hands tangling into her hair. The sound was like a warning shot to Claire to stop, to not make things worse for either of them; she wrenched her mouth away from his, taking a step back as she looked down at her feet.

“Is something wrong?” His voice was confused as he reached for her, trying to grab her hand in his again. Claire met his eyes briefly as she glanced back up, moving her arm out of his reach. Hurt flashed across his face, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“We just… I need to talk to you.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, his hands falling limply at his sides. “What’s going on?”

“I- I’ve done a lot of thinking today, and…  _ this _ , what’s been going on between us… it has to stop. I’m not this kind of girl, Jamie. I don’t cheat with someone else’s boyfriend. This isn’t who I am.”

She felt like she was watching the scene from outside of her own body; the words coming out of her mouth sounded foreign, fuzzy ( _ like they were being said from the other end of a tunnel _ ), her hands beginning to shake as she rubbed them against her jeans to try to calm herself.

“Claire, I ken - I ken how this all came to be between us isna ideal, and I am sorry if I’ve done something to make ye feel like ye’re less to me than what ye are, but I am going to fix this. I’m going to talk to Laoghaire and break things off with her and then--”

Claire cut him off, shaking her head quickly. “No, Jamie. You shouldn’t break up with her. She’s… she’s good for you,” she said, the ever present lump in her throat growing larger.

“ _ You _ are good for me,” he retorted, reaching forward and tilting her head up so she had to look at him. “Claire, where is this coming from? We were together last night and this morning and everything was fine. What happened?”

Her eyes looked over his face, trying to memorize every last feature before she did what she knew she had to: the way his stubble was growing closer to a beard; the mole on his left cheek that she had caressed under her fingers; the scars shaped like two little dash marks on his other cheek, courtesy of a rough game of rugby; the way his eyes, so fathomless and deep grew darker when they looked at her ( _ with amusement, desire, adoration, love _ ); the high slant of his cheekbones and the square line of his jaw.

She could not ( _ would not _ ) tell him the truth of what had happened with Laoghaire and create more tension and problems between the two; so instead, she lied, Jamie’s previous words flashing through her mind as she did so ( _ “Can we agree that there will be honesty between us? That there may be room for secrets right now, but no’ for lies?” _ ).

“Nothing happened, Jamie. I just realized that we don’t make sense together. I came to Scotland to start fresh and focus on myself and my studies and I haven’t done either of those things. And you… you have a whole life waiting for you when you graduate and it doesn’t include me. You can’t throw that all away over some little fling with me. I won’t let you. I thought I owed it to you to tell you in person that this is over and I don’t want to see you anymore,” she choked out, the look of complete devastation washing over Jamie as he absorbed her words hitting her square in the chest like a bullet.

He shook his head slowly, his eyes looking around as he fought to master the feelings that were dancing across his face. He blinked several times before he swallowed hard, wiping at his eyes. “You’re lying to me,” he said finally.

She took a step backwards and made to leave, trying desperately not to break down in front of him. “You can believe what you want. I need to go.”

“Claire.”

His voice caught on her name, unsteady. His lower lip was starting to tremble, and she could see he was barely keeping it together. His chest began to heave, slowly at first, then picking up speed as the seconds ticked by, like a train that had lost control of its wheels.

“ _ Please _ .”

Another gunshot to her chest.

“We made love to each other last night and this morning.”

The bleeding would never stop.

“Dinna do this to me. I’m begging ye _. _ ”

It would have to be fatal - for both of them.

“That was a mistake.”

Her voice was cold, but her chin wobbled uncontrollably, eyes welling up with tears. She blinked rapidly, trying to see Jamie through her swimming vision. She took a ragged breath and clenched her jaw, fighting to stay in control. Her body betrayed her, one tear slipping past her lashes down her cheek, then another, and another, a never ending pool ( _ like her love for him _ ), until they stood there staring at each other, neither saying a word, tears running down both their cheeks.

Then she turned and walked away and felt it: her heart snapping clean in two, a self-inflicted wound she would never be able to recover from.

Fatal.

Just like she’d intended.

_ Over _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if there are a few weird formatting errors - I don't always italicize the parentheses when I am writing in Google Docs, and I think that's causing some weird spacing when I am copy and pasting and editing here. I can go through and change all of that if it bothers people, but I would prefer not to. Going forward, I'll make sure I change how I do that in Google Docs. Thanks so much!


	9. we never got it right, playing and replaying old conversations

Claire woke up suddenly, confusion and panic setting in as she sat up straight in a strange bed, rubbing at her eyes. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Her head whipped to the side so fast that she could feel the crick in her neck forming. She let out a small “ _ ow _ ,” her hand moving up to rub at the muscle there. She blinked slowly, taking in the form of Geillis sitting on a chair next to her, worry etching her pale face.

“Geillis?” she asked, still confused by where she was and how she had gotten there. “Why am I in your bed?”

“Ye came here a few hours ago, banging on the front door, sobbing and close to a panic attack. I finally calmed ye down enough to get ye in bed. How are ye feeling?”

“Like I have a hangover. What time is it?”

“Close to 2 a.m. Ye’ve had me worried sick. What happened, Claire?”

She had turned and walked away from Jamie, clutching the railing in the rugby stadium as she prayed desperately for her knees to not give out on her. She was close to the bottom of the stairway, ready to turn the corner and flee when she heard the clang and echo of what she assumed was Jamie’s fist against the metal bleachers. The sound reverberated through her body, echoing  _ (empty, like her heart) _ , making her jump. She had hesitated briefly, wondering if she should turn back to see if he had hurt himself when she heard the sound again, then again, and again, each punch seeming to come harder and faster.

Then the sound had stopped and she heard a thud, her head turning involuntarily to see what was happening. Jamie had collapsed onto one of the bleacher seats, elbows on his knees, head buried in his hands, shoulders visibly shaking. She slapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out, her breaths beginning to come short and fast, fingertips and toes beginning to buzz like they were made of pins and needles.

A detached part of her brain began to scream that she had to leave,  _ now _ , before her shaking body gave over fully to the panic attack it was starting to produce. She did not want to end up in a heap against the concrete floor, unable to move, when Jamie decided to finally leave. She somehow forced herself away  _ (even as her heart screamed for her to turn around and go to him, help him) _ , and made it outside and away from the stadium before she couldn’t resist the urges of her body any longer. She crouched down, her breathing coming out in the form of gasping, hyperventilating sobs, her skin turning pink and splotchy as it seemed to explode from the inside out.

Once her vision began to clear, she wiped at the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, taking deep, calming breaths to try and force oxygen back into her lungs and brain. Her body continued to shudder, but it too began to slow after a few minutes, leaving her exhausted and feeling sick. She reached for the phone in her back pocket, cursing when she saw the battery was dead, before she picked herself up off the ground and began to walk again, ending up on Geillis’ front door. She would not,  _ could not _ , ever go back to her apartment.

“I… I ended things with Jamie and I came here. I didn’t know where else to go. I’m so sorry, Geillis. I don’t even remember what happened between making it to your doorstep and now. Thank you for taking me in.”

Her friend’s green eyes softened in sympathy as she reached forward to take Claire’s hand in her own, squeezing it. “Ye never have to thank me for that. I’m sorry about Jamie. Do ye want to talk about it?”

“No, I just… not yet,” she shook her head, tears beginning to well up in her eyes again.

“Okay,” Geillis said quietly, squeezing her hand once more before standing up and crossing to her dresser. She pulled Claire’s phone off the charger, handing it back to her. “This was clutched in yer hand when ye got here. It was dead, but ye should be able to turn it on now.”

“Thank you,” Claire said gratefully, pressing down on the power button, squinting stupidly as the blinding light of the screen hit her eyes.

“Lay down and rest some more. I’ll go make ye some tea and get ye something to eat, too.” Geillis moved towards her door before she paused, turning back to Claire. “I ken ye dinna want to talk about it, but I have to know… did ye at least shag him before ye dumped him?”

“ _ What _ ?” Claire choked out, mouth gaping at Geillis in shock.

“I’ve seen the two of ye together, Claire. And while he’s no’ bad on the eyes and likes to bring ye coffee, I dinna think ye’d be that upset over having to find yer own caffeine and a new piece of eye candy, so tell me. Was his shoe size an accurate predictor for… other parts?”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Claire whispered, a breath that was almost a laugh leaving her mouth as she stared in wonder at her friend. “Did you really just ask me that? Right bloody now?”

“I ken it’s no’ the right time, but…”

“Geillis!”

“Okay, I get it. Too soon. Ye can make me jealous over it later. Here I am trying to find a man who can get it up and keep it up and ye’re discarding a god,” she grumbled under her breath, closing the door behind her as she left the room.

Claire let out a deep breath, shaking her head as she leaned back against Geillis’ headboard. She pressed her thumb to her phone to unlock it, biting down on her bottom lip when she saw she had several text messages waiting for her. She clicked on the messages icon hesitantly, afraid of what she would find.

The contents made her breath catch in her throat and her heart squeeze painfully, a fresh wave of tears coating her eyelashes as she pressed down on Jamie’s name.

_ claire, please don’t do this. _

_ making love to each other was NOT a mistake. i know you didn’t mean that. _

_ i know i should have broken things off with laoghaire as soon as i met you. i wronged you and i hate myself for it. _

_ please give me another chance to make this right. _

A break between messages.

_ i need you. _

_ please say something. _

Salt filled her mouth as she wiped at her eyes and nose, sniffling as she noticed that several minutes had passed again before he sent more texts.

_ i called you but your phone is off. this isn’t over, sassenach. it can’t be. _

_ i meant what i said to you. you’re everything to me. _

_ please let me know you’re safe. _

She was torn between ignoring everything he had said in order to create distance between them and doing what he’d asked in order to not worry him further. She stared down at her phone, mind at war with her heart, before she gave in and typed a quick text, hitting the button to send it.

_ i’m fine. _

She didn’t expect her phone to begin ringing immediately, his name lighting up her screen. Heart pounding, she picked it up and answered, holding it to her ear. She tried to open her mouth to say something,  _ anything, _ but found that words simply wouldn’t come.

“Ye answered.”

His voice was low, scratchy  _ (like gravel was stuck in his throat).  _ She felt a tear slip down her cheek as he sniffled on the other end of the line, waiting for her to respond.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” she said quietly, clearing her throat as she heard how unsteady her voice sounded.

“Where are you?”

“I’m… I’m not at the apartment. But I’m safe.”

“Sassenach, please tell me where ye are so I can come over and we can talk in person,” he pleaded.

“Jamie…” she shook her head, though she knew he couldn’t see her. “Talking isn’t going to make a difference. I told you I- I don’t want to see you anymore. Please respect that.”

He was quiet for a long time as she listened to his breathing  _ (shallow, almost painful) _ , her heart constricting painfully in response. “I would do anything for ye, but I canna do that,” he said finally.

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“What other choice do I have, Claire?”

She tried to swallow past the tears in her throat, afraid she was going to choke on the lump that seemed to grow larger with every passing second. “There aren’t other options to choose from, Jamie.”

She looked up when Geillis came back in, carrying two cups of steaming tea and several plates of cookies on a tray. She wiped at her eyes quickly, turning her attention back to the phone. “I have to go. Take care of yourself.”

She ended the call and turned her phone back off, burying her face in her hands. She heard Geillis set the tray down before she sat next to her on the bed, pulling Claire into her arms as sobs began to wrack her body. She muttered words of Gaelic into Claire’s curls, soothing her until she was able to speak again.

“Can I stay here until I find a new place? I can sleep out on the couch.”

“Aye. Whatever ye need.”

Claire looked up through her puffy eyes, pushing a curl back that had stuck itself to her wet cheeks. “I need you to get some of my clothes from the apartment. Enough for a little while anyways.”

“Okay. I’ll go in the morning.”

“And there’s a...a plaid blanket on the bed. Please make sure you bring that, too.”

__________

She spent the vast majority of the next week on the couch at Geillis’ apartment, wrapped in the Fraser plaid  _ (in the smell of Jamie, of them), _ getting up only to shower and occasionally look for something to eat. She had emailed her professors, claiming to be terribly sick and contagious, asking them to send any work she needed with Geillis.

But she had a test this afternoon that she couldn’t miss, so she had reluctantly taken a shower, hoping the steam of the hot water would somehow make her look and feel more alive than she felt. She stared at herself in the foggy mirror after she got out, barely recognizing herself. Her eyes were still red and swollen from crying, dark circles underneath them from lack of sleep, and her skin  _ (usually so clear and smooth) _ looked ashen.

She jammed a toothbrush in her mouth, brushing quickly before plugging her hairdryer in, staring blankly at her reflection as she dried her curls. She considered putting on some makeup to make herself look more presentable, then scoffed at the idea; who was she trying to impress? She dressed quickly, pulling a beanie on her head before grabbing her book bag and heading out the door.

Claire felt the nerves beginning to build in her stomach as she got closer to her classroom’s building, praying she wouldn’t see or run into Laoghaire or Jamie. She hadn’t turned her phone back on since their phone call had ended, and she was terrified of what her reaction would be if she saw him. She kept her head down, hoping to blend in with the other students walking around, when she bumped into someone, sending their books tumbling from their arms. Apologizing profusely, Claire crouched down to pick them up, gathering them in her hands.

When she stood back up to hand them back to their owner, a flash of red caught her eye over the small brunette’s shoulder. She froze as she locked eyes with Jamie, his gaze laser focused on her. She could tell the moment he decided to move towards her, his long legs covering the distance between them in no time. She squeaked out another  _ “I’m so sorry,” _ before she turned quickly and tried to get away before Jamie could reach her, practically running in her haste.

She was almost at the door when his large hand grabbed her elbow, moving up to grip her bicep. He whirled her around towards him, refusing to let go. Claire averted her eyes to the ground, trying desperately to catch her breath, when his other hand came up to gently cup her face, forcing her to look at him.

She could feel the tears spring to her eyes immediately at the sight of him; his own eyes were rimmed in red, the soft spots underneath them looking almost bruised; his cheeks were sunken in, partially hidden by his beard that he clearly hadn’t even thought to trim, and his hair  _ (his beautiful, perfect curls)  _ looked disheveled, like he had been running his fingers through it repeatedly instead of the comb he desperately needed.

She watched as he searched her face, drinking her in. His eyes finally landed on hers, whisky on blue, and she felt one tear roll down her cheek at the look of pure pain reflected in them. He managed to curl up one side of his mouth, his thumb sliding along her cheek to wipe away the teardrop. “Ye’re the best thing I’ve seen in over a week.”

She couldn’t help the choked laugh that came out at his words, her eyebrows furrowing together as she watched him. “I look terrible.”

“Ye’re beautiful,” he corrected her gently. “Always.”

She let out a shaky breath, her body swaying towards his instinctually until she was close enough for him to lay his forehead against hers. His exhale came out as a sigh, some of the tension seeping out of his body when she didn’t pull away. “I’ve missed ye. Talking to ye, texting ye at all hours of the night… having ye in my arms.”

Claire felt her eyes begin to flutter closed, but she fought to keep them open, to keep herself from getting completely lost in him. It was useless; she spoke  _ (a quiet confession)  _ before she could stop herself. “I miss you, too.”

He pulled her into his arms then and held her close, his nose buried in her hair. One hand tangled itself in her curls, stroking, while the other ran along the plane of her back. She wrapped herself around him, feeling fresh tears bloom and soak into the soft material of his t-shirt.

She let him hold her for a few minutes before she gently pulled back, though he wouldn’t unwrap his arms from around her. “I have to go. I have a test that I can’t miss.”

“Okay. Will ye… will ye please let me come over later so we can talk? I have things I need to tell you, and it can’t wait.”

“Jamie, we already talked about this…” she trailed off hesitantly, feeling her resolve begin to wane.

“I ken that, but please. For me. For  _ us _ .”

His voice was so earnest, so  _ urgent _ , that she felt the wall she had tried to so carefully build around herself crumble completely. She opened her mouth to say yes when she saw Laoghaire over Jamie’s shoulder, watching them, her arms crossed across her chest, face tight.

Claire stiffened, aware that she was still very much enfolded in Jamie’s arms. “No. I can’t,” she said, shaking her head as she extracted herself from his touch, stepping away to create distance between them.

“Claire, what—,” he said, confused by the sudden change in her demeanor. He glanced behind him when he noticed her eyes were intent on something he couldn’t see. He turned back around, grim understanding on his face as he reached for Claire again.

“Don’t,” she held up a hand, feeling like she was going to be sick. “I shouldn’t have let any of this happen just now. I’m sorry. I have to go to class and your girlfriend is waiting for you.”

“No,” he said, grabbing her by the waist with one hand, but she shrugged him off, her face set like stone.

She saw Laoghaire begin to walk towards them and she took another step back, her pulse beginning to beat erratically. “She’s heading our way. Just leave me alone, Jamie. It’s the best thing for both of us.  _ Please _ .”

He opened his mouth to respond to her, clearly ready to argue, but stopped when Laoghaire placed a hand on his shoulder. Claire turned and walked the final few steps to her building, yanking the door open and walking inside. She gripped the bannister as she began walking up the stairs, praying her knees wouldn’t fail her trembling body. She wanted to let the tears blurring her vision slide down her cheeks, but she refused to let them fall; she had chosen this path for all of them. She had to see it through.

__________

The next few weeks passed by in a blur. Claire spent the majority of her time at Geillis’, only leaving when she had to study in the library or attend class. She hadn’t had another run in with Jamie on campus, and she had a feeling that was due to Geillis intervening somehow. She had seen her with John Grey before class one day, the two of them with their heads pressed together as they spoke in hushed tones, worried expressions on both their faces. When she confronted her friend about what they were talking about, Geillis had only smiled.  _ “Just logistics.” _

Part of her  _ (a large part) _ felt bitter disappointment that clearly whatever agreement the two had made to get Jamie to back off, he had agreed to. She knew it was irrational and unfair to feel the way she did, but she longed to see him, to know how he was feeling, to see if he was still missing her the way she was missing him. She missed the deep Scottish noise he would make in the back of his throat when she teased him, the way his eyes would slant and brighten when he smiled at her, the way his nose would scrunch up when he laughed at something she had said or done that he found funny. She wanted to feel his strong arms wrap around her, sheltering her in his warmth as he pressed his lips to her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and then her lips. She wanted to feel him sigh against her as that kiss became more, as they drove each other to the brink over and over and over again.

She wanted him  _ (every messy piece, forever) _ and the knowledge that she couldn’t have him was killing her.

Claire startled when the students around her began to gather their books and push back their chairs, the sound of metal scraping against the floor filling her ears. She stood up to throw her things haphazardly into her bag, a shadow crossing the desk in front of her. Looking up, she saw Robert St. Germain smiling at her, an amused look on his face.

“Did you hear a word our professor said while you were zoned out?”

She gave him a dirty look, swinging her bag over her back. “Am I that obvious?”

“It’s hard to not notice when you’ve been like this for over a month.”

“Well, those keen observational skills will help make you a successful doctor, I’m sure.”

“Ah, a little bit of sarcasm in the banter. Nice to see you’re still in there, Beauchamp.”

She grunted in response, a small smile curving her lips despite herself. “What do you want?”

“A bunch of us are going out to Leoch’s later tonight - that whisky bar just off campus, do you know it? Geillis and Joe are going, I thought you might want to come along, too. It seems like you could use a night out.”

“Are you saying I need some type of distraction?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. So how about it?”

“I probably wouldn’t be good company,” she said doubtfully.

“We’ll see about that. I’ll pick you up around seven? We can grab some dinner together beforehand.”

Claire hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable by his suggestion. “I don’t know…” she trailed off, not meeting his eyes.

“It’s not a date, Claire. It’s friends grabbing dinner before meeting up with other friends. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

She considered him for a moment, finally nodding her agreement. “Okay. I’ll see you at seven.”

Before she knew it, the doorbell was ringing for Robert to pick her up. She buttoned her coat up as she walked towards the front door, giving him a small smile when she opened it. “Hi,” she said, stepping down onto the landing, closing the door firmly behind her.

“Hi. Ready to be adventurous?” he asked with a smile, stepping slightly to the side so Claire could see what was behind him: his motorcycle, two helmets waiting for them on top of the leather seat.

“Are you serious?” she asked flatly, hands landing on her hips. “Do you have a death wish for me?”

He laughed at that, nodding once towards the motorcycle. “You agreed you needed a distraction and a night out. Try something new, Beauchamp. I promise I’ll drive slow.”

She raised her eyebrows at him, head tilting to the side as she gave him a dubious look. She followed him down the stairs, pursing her lips as she gave the bike a once over, Robert picking up the smaller helmet and placing it on her head. He adjusted the straps carefully, making sure it fit correctly, before giving her a reassuring smile and shutting the visor. “You look good.”

He put his own helmet on, throwing a leg over the seat and motioning for Claire to do the same. She let out a nervous breath as she did, her hands moving up instinctually to grab Robert around the waist when he tilted the motorcycle up into a straight position, starting it so the engine revved to life. He patted one of her hands before turning around to look at her before pulling away from the curb. “Just hold on tight.”

The restaurant he had chosen wasn’t far away, but as Claire rode through the streets of Edinburgh behind him, wind whipping around her hair, she couldn’t help but feel peaceful for the first time in days. There was something weirdly calming about being exposed the way they were  _ (a certain freedom in taking a risk), _ and it felt exactly like what she had needed.

She eased herself away from Robert as he pulled into a parking spot, deftly putting the kickstand in place. He slid off the motorcycle first, shaking his hair as he pulled his helmet off, before he reached forward to help Claire with hers. He held out a hand to her, helping her off the bike, his eyes bright as he looked at her. “So? Was it as scary and terrible as you thought it would be?”

“It was fun,” she smiled. “It’s still dangerous, though, and I can’t believe I went on it. How long have you had it?”

“A few years. I know it can be dangerous, but I take precautions and I do drive carefully. I find it clears my mind when I go for a ride. Thought it might do the same for you.”

She returned his shy smile, reaching forward to squeeze his forearm in acknowledgment before she removed it. “Thank you,” she said gratefully.

“You’re welcome. We can go for a longer ride before we meet everyone for drinks after dinner maybe. Come on, we’ve got reservations,” he said, nodding towards the restaurant.

He held the door open for Claire, his French accent slightly stronger when he gave the receptionist his last name. He touched the small of her back briefly as he waited for Claire to follow the woman around the corner to their table, his presence looming over her.

“Enjoy,” she said, placing menus down on the table, offering both of them a warm smile.

Claire unbuttoned her coat, startling slightly when she felt a large pair of hands along her shoulders, helping slide the heavy material down her arms. Robert hung it up on the coat rack next to them before pulling her chair out for her, helping her slide it back in as she sat down. She could feel heat blooming in her cheeks at his gestures as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Thank you,” she said, biting down on her bottom lip. “I feel like I’ve said that a lot to you tonight.”

He reached forward from across the table, squeezing her hand gently. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said, hand lingering on hers for just another moment. Claire made to pull hers away when a shadow fell over the table.

She looked up, expecting to see the waiter there to greet them. Her heart leapt into her throat, breath rushing out of her body when she met a very familiar pair of blue eyes instead.

_ Jamie _ , glaring at them, Laoghaire a few steps behind.

Claire swallowed hard, vision blurring in front of her.

All she could think was,  _ oh shit. _

 


	10. i’ll regret it if i didn’t say this isn’t what it could be

Claire felt frozen, the roar of her pulse pounding in her ears as she watched Jamie, his face dark and dangerous as he stood at the end of their table. His eyes moved from her face down to her hand, still engulfed by Robert’s. She pulled it away like she had been burned, tucking her hair behind her ear nervously, hoping no one could see the way it was beginning to shake. 

She felt Robert’s eyes watching her before he turned to Jamie, drawing his attention away from Claire. His voice was calm when he spoke, one hand coming up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “You again,” he said, his voice slightly amused. “Try to punch anyone else lately?”

“Just you. And as I recall, I did more than  _ try _ last time,” Jamie said tightly, “and I dinna have a problem doing it again right now.”

“ _ Jamie _ ,” Laoghaire admonished him quietly, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as she looked between the two of them, eyes darting briefly  _ (suspiciously) _ towards Claire.

“Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem tonight. I’m not here with your girl, clearly,” Robert smiled, nodding towards Laoghaire.

Jamie took a step towards him but Laoghaire grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back as a waiter walked towards the table, holding a glass pitcher filled with water. His step faltered as he eyed the two men warily, clearly sensing an altercation was brewing.

“Is everything okay here?” he asked, setting a drink menu down on the table.

“Everything is great,” Robert said smoothly before looking at Jamie once again. “As you can see, this is a table for two, not four. Perhaps you should go and find your own seats so we can order.”

“Come  _ on _ ,” Laoghaire muttered, tugging at Jamie’s sleeve. He yanked his arm out of her grasp, his hot glare landing on her.

“Dinna touch me,” he spat out, eyes meeting Claire’s once more before he allowed himself to be all but dragged away, the same hostess from before taking them to their own table, still in view of Claire and Robert.

She swallowed hard, attempting to smile at the waiter as he picked the menus back up to hand one to her, eyes unfocused as she opened it up. She looked up when she heard Robert say her name, a gentle half-smile on his face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What would you like to drink?” he gestured towards the waiter, who offered her his own little smile.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, flustered. “I’ll have a glass of wine, please. A large one.”

Robert quirked an eyebrow at her. “Starting early?”

“Seems necessary, don’t you think?”

“Bring us a bottle of your best white, then,” Robert said, nodding at the waiter as he turned to give them time to look over the food menus.

Claire couldn’t help but glance behind him, biting down on her bottom lip when she saw Jamie watching them, his arms crossed across his chest, back ramrod straight against his chair. Laoghaire was looking off to the side, clearly miffed that she was being ignored, her own arms held tight across her body.

She tore her gaze away from them, meeting Robert’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, nervously wetting her lips with her tongue. “I didn’t know they would be here.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Claire. He’s the one who seems like he’s going to blow anytime he’s around you. I’m assuming he’s the reason this night of distraction was needed?”

She made a noise somewhere between a snort and a strangled laugh, wondering how to answer. “Him. Her.  _ Them _ , _ ” _ she shook her head slightly, offering him a small smile. “It’s a mess.”

“Mm. I see. Sounds to me like he’s an idiot,” he said bluntly in response. “Why is he with her when he clearly had something going on with you?”

She felt her face flush, a strange feeling of indignation on Jamie’s behalf springing up inside her. “It’s not that simple. He has a lot going on with his family, and I may not be in Scotland beyond this school year. It’s just… complicated. So I ended it with him. It never should have started to begin with anyways.”

Robert looked at her appraisingly, his eyes only leaving her face when the waiter came back with their bottle of wine, pouring both of them generous glasses before writing down their orders. He waited until he left again before speaking, fingers playing with the stem of the goblet. “I can assume he didn’t want you to end things?”

“That obvious, is it?”

He leaned back and smirked, taking a sip of his wine. “Should we give him something to really be jealous over?”

“I think you’ve done enough just by breathing in the same air as me, Robert. I’m glad you find this so amusing, though,” she huffed, eyes flickering back to Jamie as she drank from her glass.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be teasing you. I’m supposed to be taking your mind off him. So tell me about your plans for after undergrad. What kind of medicine do you want to study?”

They fell into an easy conversation about medical school and where they were hoping to apply, the type of medicine they wanted to study, and why. Claire wasn’t surprised to hear that Robert had considered going into public service like his father, but had changed his mind after visiting one of the many countries his family had traveled to on official work, meeting with doctors and aid workers.

The waiter arrived with their food, both of them continuing to talk about the various places they had visited growing up as they ate. Claire could feel Jamie’s eyes burning into her as Robert refilled her wine glass, her fingers nervously tucking at her hair again.

“Try some?” he asked, bringing her attention back to him as he held his fork out to her, pasta wrapped around it.

“Oh, that’s okay,” she shook her head, moving her own food around her plate.

“Just a bite,” he cajoled, raising his eyebrows as he waited for her to agree.

She fought the urge to glance at Jamie before looking back up at Robert, who was still holding his fork out to her. “Okay,” she leaned forward and opened her mouth, letting him place his fork between her lips. She chewed carefully, eyes closing involuntarily as she tasted it. “This is amazing.”

“Yes, it is,” he smiled, letting out a little laugh at her expression. “You have a little...sauce,” he said, leaning forward and rubbing at the corner of her mouth with his thumb before sweeping it slowly along her bottom lip. “There. Got it.”

“Thank you,” she squeaked out, feeling her cheeks turn red. She did look at Jamie then, unable to help herself. He looked like he was ready to explode, his expression so charged that it made her breath catch in her throat. She pushed her chair back, setting her napkin down on it as she stood. “I need to use the restroom. Excuse me.”

She walked towards the hallway that would lead to the bathrooms, keeping her eyes averted from Jamie and Laoghaire’s table. She had no choice but to pass them, though she was separated between them by another table.

“Why did ye even agree to come here tonight if ye were just going to ignore me?” Laoghaire snapped.

“I didna want to come. Ye guilted me into it,” she heard Jamie bite back before he turned his head sharply to watch her walk by. Claire quickened her pace as she moved into the darkened hallway, letting out a sigh of relief as their voices faded away.

She locked the door of the women’s room behind her, turning the cold water in the sink on. She let the water rush over her wrists for a moment before she splashed it on her cheeks, hoping it would return them to their normal color. She took a few deep, calming breaths as she looked at herself in the mirror.

Feeling Jamie’s eyes on her constantly was starting to unnerve her, and Robert touching her face the way he had in plain view of him wasn’t helping matters. She was afraid if they stayed at the restaurant much longer, Jamie would truly end up losing it. Part of her recognized that  _ she _ could actually be the one to unravel if she had to continue seeing him with Laoghaire, too. The rational part of her brain knew she was the one who had ended things, who had told Jamie to stay with her; but her heart was screaming for her to go to their table and claim what was hers, consequences be damned.

Glancing down at her watch, she inhaled another deep breath. She just had to last a little bit longer. Then they would be on their way to the bar to meet their friends and she could put this weird, unsettling night behind her.

Another bottle of wine and Netflix by herself at Geillis’ would also help.

She grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at the remaining wetness on her face before tossing it in the trash can. She unlocked the door and opened it, stepping back out into the hallway. She took a few steps towards the noisy dining area, her head down as she tugged at her sweater to rearrange it when she felt someone’s hand grab her arm and pull her back towards the restroom she had just exited.

“What the—,” she gasped out, head snapping up as she heard the click of the lock behind her. “What are you doing?”

Jamie had her pinned against the door, his body looming over hers as he placed an arm above her head. His eyes were intent on hers, refusing to let her look away. “What are ye doing here with him?”

“What?” she repeated again, her mind spinning by his proximity and sudden appearance.

“Are ye on a date with him?”

She narrowed her eyes at his tone  _ (accusing, an implication behind it she didn’t like), _ righteous indignation beginning to swell inside her. “How is that any of your business?”

“Jesus, Claire,” he said, voice almost exasperated. “How would that  _ not _ be my business?”

“Because we aren’t together, Jamie! I’m allowed to do whatever I want. That’s what it means to be single, not that you would know. Now move,” she snapped, pushing at his chest with one hand to get out from underneath his body.

He stepped back, allowing her to move, but placed his hand on top of hers, locking it against him. She could feel the way his heart was pounding, her fingers curling over his shirt as they had done so many times before, feeling the strong muscles beneath it. Her eyes closed for a moment  _ (remembering),  _ her curls covering her face as she shook her head. “Jamie…”

“Please look at me.”

She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his gaze with reluctance. “You don’t get to be jealous and demand answers from me.”

“I canna help it, Sassenach. Do ye think I like seeing ye out with another guy? Sharing a bottle of wine and eating from his fork? Watching as he touches yer mouth, yer lips? What’s next, I have to watch as he takes ye home with him?”

Her mouth fell open in shock as she absorbed his words, her temper flaring back up. “Did you really just say that to me? You are beyond bastard right now, Jamie. Get away from me,” she snapped, pushing him away from her again.

“I didna mean…” he shook his head before taking a deep breath, reaching for her once more. “He wants ye! He wants ye, and it should be me out there with ye, taking ye on a date and then taking ye home. I should be the one who gets to kiss ye in the car before I ask ye to come inside. I’m supposed to be the one who gets every part of ye, not him.”

“Well you can do all of that with your  _ bloody girlfriend  _ out there, can’t you, Jamie? You’re here on a fucking date with her while you accuse me of what, exactly? Being some… some loose woman who just sleeps with anyone who shows interest? Is that what you think of me? That I just  _ go home _ with guys like I did with you?”

He looked like she had slapped him across the face  _ (stunned, hurt beyond belief). _ She could feel her eyes welling up with angry tears as her own feelings of hurt welled up inside, threatening to choke her. He pulled his hand back from trying to touch her, letting it fall limply at his side.

He swallowed hard before clearing his throat, clearly trying to master his emotions. “I have  _ never _ thought those things of you, mo ghraidh. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she swatted it away furiously, her face set like stone. “Tell it to your girlfriend, Jamie. Not me. I have to get back to my  _ date _ .”

She turned away from him and reached for the lock, stopping when he spoke again.

“She’s no’ my girlfriend.”

Her body stilled. “What?”

“Laoghaire. I broke up with her the day after ye ended things with me, Claire.”

She looked back at him, eyes searching his. He nodded once at her  _ (confirmation),  _ hope etched clearly across his face. She opened her mouth to speak, but found no words would come out; she stood there gaping at him in shock until a firm knock on the other side of the door broke the spell between them.

“Claire? Is everything okay?” Robert’s voice sounded slightly muffled, though his concern was clear.

She continued to stare at Jamie, her hand falling away from the lock. She took a step towards him when another knock pounded on the door, more insistently this time.

“Claire?” he repeated.

“I- I’ll be right out,” she called unsteadily, disappointment flashing across Jamie’s face at her words. She lowered her voice to speak to him, hoping Robert wouldn’t hear. “I’m sorry. I… I have to go.”

He didn’t say anything as he pressed his lips together tightly, mouth in a firm line as he turned away from her. She wanted to close the distance between them, to wrap her arms around his waist and rest her cheek against the strong muscles of his back as she breathed in the scent of him.

But now was not the time or place, not when Robert was standing right outside the door waiting for her, and Laoghaire  _ (her heart stuttered as it remembered Jamie’s words)  _ was sitting at a table expecting him to return. She forced herself to turn away from him as she unlocked the door and cracked it open, sliding through so Robert wouldn’t see who else was inside.

“Sorry,” she pasted a smile on her face as she directed him down the hallway back towards their table. “I didn’t mean to take so long.”

They settled back down to their dinners, Claire’s eyes darting to the side constantly to watch for Jamie. He came back to his table a few minutes later, meeting her eyes briefly before looking away. He said something quietly to Laoghaire before he stood back up, reaching for his wallet and throwing some bills onto the table. He walked to the entrance of the restaurant alone then, avoiding looking at Claire or Robert though she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

“We should probably head out soon to meet everyone,” Robert said, bringing Claire’s attention back to him as she tore her eyes away from Jamie’s retreating back.

“You know, I’m actually not feeling that great anymore. This night has kind of done me in already,” she lied, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see right through her. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll probably just head home after this.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking at her knowingly.

“Yes. Thank you for tonight, Robert. I needed to get out for a while.”

“Anytime, Claire,” he held her gaze, finally looking away when the waiter came back with the bill. He paid the whole thing, despite Claire’s protests, holding a hand out to help her up from the table before helping her get her coat back on. They walked outside together, Robert helping her with her helmet again before they got on his motorcycle to head back towards Geillis’ apartment.

She fluffed her hair out when she was able to take the helmet back off, handing it to him to fasten to the back of his bike after climbing off. She stopped her ministrations when she noticed Robert staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “You know he doesn’t deserve you,” he said, the  _ he _ was referring to obvious.

“You don’t know him like I do,” she said finally, giving him a small smile. “He’s…  _ everything _ .”

He shook his head slightly at her words, leaning forward to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Good luck then,” he said softly. She squeezed his arm briefly before he turned back to get on his motorcycle, waving to him as he pulled away from the curb. She took a deep breath, rubbing at her arms to ward off the chill of the wind as she started walking away from Geillis’.

She had to find Jamie.

There was no hesitation, no second guessing in her mind as to where he was. She knew he would be at the spot where it all began for them, drawn to it tonight just like she was. As the stadium eventually loomed within view, she couldn’t help but think of the last time she had been in this same spot over a month ago, heart broken in pieces as she walked away from him.

She let the gate swing shut behind her, making more noise than usual in her haste to make it to the top  _ (to Jamie). _ Her breath caught in her throat as she turned the corner and saw him standing there, looking out over the edge of the wall with his back turned to her. His head was bowed as if he was deep in thought, so distracted he didn’t seem to hear her footsteps coming up the stairs towards him.

She stopped a few feet away from him, jamming her hands into her pockets. She took a deep breath, wondering where to begin or what to say, afraid that this would all be for naught. Not wanting to startle him too deeply, she spoke quietly. “Jamie.”

His head snapped around to look at her, that small half-smile she loved so much curling up one side of his mouth in surprise as he took her in. “What are ye doing here?”

“I had to see you,” she said simply, shrugging slightly. “I knew this was where you would be.”

“Why?”

“I think you’re the one who should be answering that question.” She held his gaze, crossing her arms across her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He knew what she meant; he let out a breath, an almost ironic sound to it, his mouth twisting as he looked at her. “I tried to tell ye that day before yer test. I didna expect her to be watching us the way she was. I didna even know she was  _ there _ , Sassenach. And then when she walked over to us, I kent what would happen… ye had already been telling me to stay away, that ye needed space. God, I could have killed her for it. Then I couldna text or call ye because yer phone was off. I went to Geillis’ apartment after John finally gave me her address but she wouldna let me in.”

She could feel the lump swelling in her throat, blinking rapidly as she absorbed his words. There was so much to get into, so much to say, but she had to know one thing first. “Why did you break up with her?”

He looked at her in astonishment.  _ “Why? _ You know why, Claire. Did ye honestly think I was just going to go back to her and pretend things were the same? Pretend that I hadna met ye, that ye hadna changed me, that we never happened?”

“I hoped that you would, Jamie! I didn’t want you to feel like you had to make a choice between the two of us when she is so clearly a part of your future and your family already.”

“So instead ye made those choices for me and took away my right to decide for myself,” he fired back, voice low and thick with suppressed emotion. “Ye decided ye knew what was best for me, Claire, and ye didna even stop to ask me what I wanted.”

“Because you were  _ hers _ . Jamie, between her and your family… this was over before it even had a chance to begin. It  _ had _ to be,” Claire said desperately, tears filling her eyes, threatening to slip past her lashes.

He was silent for a long time, looking out into the blackness, contemplating the stars and skies and the  _ what if’s _ as they had done so many times before from the top of this place, from their secret hideaway. She wondered if he was thinking of the way she had made him feel, of the way her body molded underneath his touch until she was nothing, nothing but  _ him _ ; an indentation in the shape of her ( _ all of her, always _ ) where his soul should be, as hers was of him.

“No,” he said finally, voice quiet but sure _.  _ “I dinna accept that. I never will. I need you, more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life, but I dinna need you to protect me from yourself. So ask me now.”

“Ask you what?”

“What I want.”

She shook her head, wiping at the tears that had slipped down her cheeks. She took a rattling breath, looking straight into his eyes. “What do you want?”

“I want  _ you,  _ Sassenach. I want a life with you. I want to be able to tell the world that you belong to no one else but me and I belong to you and nothing will ever change that. So now you have to tell me: what do  _ you _ want?”

Her heart stuttered, a swoop rising and falling in her belly at the truth in his words.  _ Room for secrets, but not lies; _ so she answered the only way she could, with honesty. “I want the same thing you do, Jamie. I want you, too.”

She watched as he let out a breath she didn’t know he had been holding, his shoulders sagging forward with relief. He reached for her then, grasping her smaller hand in his much larger one, pulling her against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, just holding her, their hearts meeting each other beat for beat.

She squeezed his neck once more before standing on her tiptoes, hands sliding along his face to pull him down towards her. She pressed her lips against his, their mouths melding together for the first time in weeks. They both let out sighs of contentment, her tongue coming out to sweep along his bottom lip, seeking entry. He granted it immediately, hands running along her back to rest on her hips as he tried to pull her tighter against him, her own fingers curling in his hair.

“This is how we’re meant to be,” he whispered when they finally pulled away from each other, trying to catch their breath. “This is all that matters.”

She looked at him, her forehead creasing slightly as she met his eyes. “Jamie, what about medical school? What if I don’t stay here in Scotland where you work? Your family’s business is here. What happens then?”

“That willna matter, Sassenach. If ye decide ye want to go to medical school somewhere else, I’ll go with ye.”

“But how? You wouldn’t be able to with your job and I would never ask you to give that up.”

“I ken ye wouldn’t, and ye dinna have to. Ye see, the reason I hadna tried to see ye these last few weeks was because I’ve been going back and forth to Lallybroch and London. I signed away my rights to the company.”

“You did what?” she gasped.

He spoke steadily, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’ve known for a long time that I didna really want to take over for my da. This was something I’d been thinking of doing for months, even before I met you. I want to be able to choose my own life, Sassenach. I dinna want to spend it living in regret.”

“Jamie…” she shook her head, guilt beginning to creep into her voice. “I’m so sorry.”

“Ye have nothing to be sorry for. Claire, I ken ye’re scared that one day I’ll wake up and wish that I had gone along with what my family wanted. But the only thing I would ever regret is not following my own heart. My mam… she talked to us about that a lot when we were growing up. She wanted us to be happy, to find what fulfilled us and to find the right person to spend our lives with. I’ve talked to her constantly the last few weeks while I’ve been dealing with all of this. I ken she’s at peace with my choice, and I am, too.”

“Do your father and sister feel the same?”

He reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, tenderly caressing her cheek as he looked at her. “I think they’re still wrapping their minds around it, though my da didna seem entirely too surprised by my decision. Jenny… she’s having a harder time with it than he is. They’ll both come around.”

She leaned her forehead against his, trying to find the right words to say. Her head was spinning from the events of the night, from being back in Jamie’s arms and knowing the future was now theirs to do with as they pleased. “What do we do now then?”

He laughed at her question, the sound sending a rush of warmth through her body. “Now, ye kiss me, mo ghraidh. We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”

He sealed his mouth to hers then, his head angling to deepen the kiss. Claire felt his smile underneath her lips before she pulled back suddenly, Jamie grunting at the loss of contact. “That’s the third time you’ve called me that now. Are you finally going to tell me what it means?”

The look he gave her made her knees go weak and tears spring up in her eyes. “Mo ghraidh. It means  _ my love.” _


	11. back to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts off NSFW!

The feel of his body pressed against hers once more was nothing short of perfection. 

Her fingers were wound into his thick curls  _ (trying to pull him closer) _ as their mouths moved together, tongues tangling as they fought for dominance. She heard a whimper come out of her throat when he pulled back from her, the sound turning into a deep sigh when he attached his lips to her neck, her head falling to the side to give him better access. Her nails scratched along the back of his neck as he gently bit down on her delicate skin before he soothed it with his tongue.

She yanked his mouth back to hers, holding his face between her hands as her hips moved against his. Jamie’s fingers moved over the buttons of her coat, deftly undoing them to expose her sweater, his hands seeking the flesh underneath. His palms slid over her stomach before moving to the small of her back, his fingers splayed over the warm skin there. They moved slowly  _ (surely),  _ reaching the clasp of her bra. He popped it with one flick of his thumb, his hands moving immediately to cup her breasts, a low groan moving from his mouth into hers.

He squeezed softly, thumbs circling before flicking her nipples, a cry coming from her at the sensation. She buried her face in his chest as he continued to pull and tug, one of her hands moving down to slide along the hard length of him she could feel pressed against her. She rubbed him through his jeans before unbuckling his belt and reaching for his zipper, the sound of the metal teeth filling the air as she pulled it down.

She slid her hand down the front of his boxers, wrapping her fingers around him. He was so hard it had to be painful, the heat of him filling her palm as she began to stroke him.

“Fuck, Claire,” he muttered, his breath coming short.

“You do realize we’re still in the rugby stadium?” she whispered back, heart pounding as Jamie reached down to pop the button on her jeans. He pushed the material past her hips, one large hand sliding along the front of her underwear, feeling the heat between her legs.

Her head fell back when she felt him move the thin lace to the side, one long finger rubbing her wetness around before pushing into her slowly. “I dinna care where we are,” he whispered hotly into her ear, his thumb dragging along her clit as he stroked her. “I’ll have ye now or die.”

“Oh, god,” she moaned, her grip around him tightening, his other hand squeezing one buttock as he inserted another finger inside her.

She was only vaguely aware of her senses as Jamie began to whisper words of encouragement to her between his own moans: the feel of the brick against her back  _ (rough, unforgiving);  _ the chill of the air as it whipped around her heated cheeks; the way gooseflesh rippled along her neck in the wake of Jamie’s trailing tongue; their breathy moans and pants  _ (unsure if the sounds were coming from one or both of them) _ ; the popping white beneath her eyelids as she felt her body begin to clench around his fingers as his own need continued to throb against her hand.

She whimpered when Jamie suddenly slid his fingers out of her, reaching out to drag him back to her as he pulled her hand off his cock, lifting one of her legs up over his hip. She cried out when he lined himself up with her and drove himself deep inside, a curl falling into his eyes from the motion. The sound died from her lips, mouth hanging open as she adjusted to the feel of him inside her, filling her completely.

“Ye feel so damn good,” Jamie whispered, wrapping her leg tighter around his hip as he started to thrust against her, going as deep as he could, Claire meeting him move for move.

She clawed at his back and neck, trying to get closer, to create more friction, her nails digging into his skin. He bit down on her earlobe, his mouth moving to suck the soft spot behind her ear, an endless stream of consonants leaving her mouth. He lifted her bottom up easily with one hand, both of her legs now wrapping around his waist as he continued to move his hips, her ass cupped by his hands as he ground into her.

She felt the lightning begin to branch deep in her belly, her skin starting to tingle as her mind went fuzzy, lost in the feeling of Jamie inside her. He pushed into her at the same time she squeezed herself around him, a loud  _ “oh, fuck,”  _ coming from one of them as her body began to tighten and pulse around his cock. Jamie’s hips moved once, twice more, before her orgasm ripped through her completely, her body going limp between him and the wall as she shook endlessly.

Jamie followed moments later, his movements slowly stilling as they both shuddered, trying to catch their breath. Claire placed one hand on his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb as she met his eyes. He blinked slowly, as if coming out of a stupor, a wide smile turning his lips up as he drank her in.

He made no move to part them, leaning down while they were still joined to kiss both of her cheeks, then her nose, and finally her lips. They stayed like that for several moments, bodies and mouths melded together, breathing each other in before he pulled away to rest his forehead against hers.

“Christ, the way you make me feel,” he finally whispered, his hands gently rubbing back and forth over her bottom.

Her hands slid back into his curls, her lips touching his softly. “I was thinking the same about you,” she smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth again before hugging him tightly.

He held her, kissing her temple before reluctantly pulling back. “I’d stay like this forever with ye, Sassenach, but I dinna think we want anyone to find us with our pants down up against a brick wall like this. It’s pretty obvious what we’ve been doing.”

She giggled, her eyes bright at his words. “Are you  _ blushing, _ Mr. Fraser?”

His cheeks turned slightly pink, matching the tips of his ears. “No! I just dinna want anyone else seeing ye like this. Ye’re all mine and I’m not sharing.”

She hummed at that, unwinding her legs from around his waist. “And here I was thinking you were an exhibitionist. I guess we won’t be doing a repeat show in a hotel room window?”

“We can do that again anytime ye want, wherever ye want, mo ghraidh,” he assured her, sighing slightly as their bodies parted from each other. He helped her tug her jeans back up before fixing his own, drawing her body back to his.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she winked, laying her head against his chest as her arms wrapped around his waist. “My legs feel like jello. I’m not sure I can walk anywhere.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. C’mere,” he said, hoisting her up by the waist and throwing her over his shoulder, her shriek filling the air as she found herself upside down without warning.

“Jamie!” She swatted at his bottom before squeezing one taut butt cheek, making him jump. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking ye home, Sassenach. I plan to love ye all night long, and I canna do that if ye can’t walk back.”

They walked several blocks with Claire giggling, her curls bouncing as she squirmed to loosen Jamie’s grip on her. He slapped her on the ass playfully, her hands coming up to pinch his sides. “Quit yer wiggling. I’m going to drop you if you dinna stop that,” he laughed.

“I can walk now! Let me down before all the blood rushes to my head and I pass out. The night will be over before it gets to begin again.”

“Mm, we can’t have that, can we?” he asked, stopping to set her back down, kissing her forehead tenderly.

“Definitely not.”

She reached for his hand, interlocking their fingers together as they continued to walk back towards Jamie’s place. His long legs were trying to move quickly, nearly dragging her along behind him; with a firm tug, she slowed him down, biting down on her lip to keep the smile from showing.

“Do you want me to trip and fall?”

“No, I want ye back underneath me naked and yer short legs are hindering my progress towards that. Pick up yer pace, Beauchamp.”

She stopped moving at all, Jamie turning around when he felt their hands break apart. He closed the distance between them, a puzzled expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” she hedged. “I want to get back to your place, too, but… this is the first time we can walk around together, holding hands and kissing in public. Maybe it’s silly, but I want to enjoy it.”

She tentatively met Jamie’s eyes, her breath catching in her throat at the look of utter tenderness on his face as he absorbed her words. He held his hand out to her and she took it, flushing when he pulled it up to his mouth to kiss it softly.

“Ye’re right, Sassenach. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, Jamie. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He pulled her towards him then, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She put her own arm around his waist, her hand sliding into the back pocket of his jeans. He kissed her head before they started walking together again, both of them smiling at each other as their bodies bumped together.

It just felt  _ right. _

She got lost in the fresh smell of the air, the gentle breeze on her face, the way her body felt so warm and safe tucked next to his. She tilted her head up towards his, receiving a sloppy kiss on the lips that made her laugh. Jamie smiled down at her, squeezing her closer to him, and she realized suddenly that he looked lighter than she had ever seen him  _ (like a profound weight had been lifted off his shoulders). _

Then her eyebrows furrowed as a sudden thought popped into her mind. “Jamie, I don’t even know if you have a roommate. Do you? Does he know about me? Oh god,” her voice was suddenly horrified. “Is he expecting Laoghaire to come home with you?”

“God, no,” he exclaimed, looking down at her. “I dinna have a roommate, but even if I did, he’d no’ be expecting her. I told ye I broke up with her weeks ago. Even before that, I tried not to spend much time with her after I met you.”

She tried to keep her face straight, not wanting her warring emotions of distaste at the mere mention of Laoghaire and satisfaction at knowing Jamie had pulled away from her long ago to show, but knew she had failed when she looked up to see Jamie watching her with an amused expression. “Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t say anything!”

“Ye didna have to,” he chucked her chin. “Yer face gives ye away every time.”

She made a noise deep in her throat at that, wrinkling up her nose. “I’ll have to keep that in mind. You know, we probably should have stopped by Geillis’ first. I won’t have any clean clothes to change into.”

“Och, ye willna need clothes for what I have planned for ye.”

The way he said the words  _ (voice low, the suggestion behind them clear)  _ sent a jolt straight through her stomach and between her legs. She fought the urge to fan at the heat she felt blooming in her cheeks, voice almost unsteady when she spoke. “And how could you have plans for us when prior to a couple of hours ago, there was no us anymore?”

The smirk that spread across his face could only be described as  _ smug. _ “Oh, I’ve had weeks to dream, Sassenach. And I have a very vivid imagination.”

“Dreaming isn’t planning,” she retorted. “What would you have done if we didn’t end up here?”

He pulled her to a stop in front of a set of stairs leading to a beautiful stone building, turning to face her directly. “I knew we would end back up here, Sassenach. No matter what happens, I will always come back to you, and I knew in my heart that you would come back to me, too. Anything less than that was never an option.”

She shook her head slightly at him, feeling like her heart could burst. She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him, hoping he could feel the love and affection she felt for him through her lips. “So bloody confident, hm?” she teased when she pulled away.

He made that Scottish sound that only he could make, his hands rubbing along her waist before sliding down to her bottom. “When it comes to you, yes. I’m also a wee bit stubborn, so I wasna going to give up. Ye would have been forced to give in eventually. Now come on, I’ll warm ye up inside.”

He held her hand securely in his as he walked them up the flight of stairs, holding the door open for her to enter first. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the warm glow of the lights inside, Jamie leading her down a short hallway to a door close to the end of it. He pulled a key from his pocket, unlocking the door before Claire entered, her eyes darting around to take in her new surroundings.

The flat was so quintessentially  _ him. _ The small kitchen opened up to the living room, the space taken up by a large, brown leather couch. The wood floors were partially covered by a thick area rug, the coffee table scattered with school books and legal documents. She took off her coat and walked over to one of the end tables, picking up a framed photograph of Jamie with two people who were undoubtedly Brian and Ellen Fraser. The former was tall, like Jamie, his blue eyes an exact match for his son’s, though his hair was a straight, shiny shock of black. Her eyes moved over to Ellen, a smile curving her lips as she saw exactly where Jamie had gotten his hair from: hers was the same shade of red, her hair curling over her shoulders. Jamie stood between them, a broad smile on his face, the perfect mix of his two parents.

Jamie came to stand behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder, his arms encircling her waist. She leaned back against him, motioning to the photograph. “When was this taken? It’s a beautiful picture.”

“That’s at Lallybroch outside of the stables, a few weeks before my mam passed away. They had just gotten back from a business trip out of town, and we had gone for a ride together. My mam thought it would be fun to race back to find out who was the best with their horse. She won, of course,” he chuckled.

“You miss her.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Every day,” he said quietly.

They stood together for a few moments, Jamie’s head buried in the crook of her neck, Claire gazing at the picture of his parents. She squeezed his arms once before moving to put the frame back in its rightful spot, noticing the picture of his family, Jenny included, behind it. She didn’t pick that one up or comment on it, though it sent a pang of regret through her stomach.

“Jamie…” she said tentatively, sitting down on the couch and motioning for him to do the same.

“Sassenach…”

“I know you said you don’t have any regrets over what you’ve done the last few weeks, and that you know your mom would be at peace with it. It’s just…” she looked down at the pictures again, her eyes darting to the documents on the table in front of them,  _ Lallybroch Farms _ written across the top. “What are you going to do now? We graduate in less than a year.”

“I haven’t decided yet. Do ye remember when I told ye I spent the summer with my Uncle Jared in France when I was a lad?”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“He has a large wine business that he runs there. He wants to open a whisky distillery here in Scotland, and he’s been telling me for months now that he’d love to have me work with him on that. And my old rugby coach has offered to set me up with a contact he has with Edinburgh Rugby, to get a job there after I’m done with school.”

“Jamie, that’s incredible. Do you want to take one of them up on their offers?”

“I dinna ken,” he shrugged. “I think I would enjoy both, but this is the first time in a long time that I get to decide for myself. I dinna want to rush into a decision just yet. Besides…” his voice trailed off.

“Besides?”

“You want to go to medical school in Boston, Claire. And I meant it when I said I’d go with ye, if ye wanted me to, of course. I’ll have a business degree. I imagine I can do something with that over there, too.”

“You could,” she agreed, laying a hand on his thigh, “but you have two amazing opportunities here, and Edinburgh has a top rated medical school, too.”

His eyes widened as he looked at her. “You’d consider staying here?”

“Yes,” she answered easily. “Scotland is your home, Jamie, and you’ve already given up so much.  _ Medical school _ is my professional dream, not Boston. Boston was just a new place for me to go learn when I was the only one I had to think about when making decisions, but… it’s not just me anymore, is it?”

His whole face softened, that half-smile she loved so much curling his mouth. “No. It’s the two of us now.”

She felt a matching smile spread across her own face. “I guess that means I need to start looking for a new place to live then. I think Geillis is getting sick of me even though she swears she isn’t,” she chuckled.

A strange, indecipherable look passed over Jamie’s face. “Aye, ye could do that, or…” he paused, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Or what?”

“Come here,” he said, standing up and offering a hand to her. She took it without hesitation, following him out of the living room.

He walked her towards another room, pushing the partially closed door open. Flicking on the light, he led her into what was clearly his bedroom, a small stack of boxes lining the corner. She looked at him in confusion, eyebrows drawn together.

She heard him take a deep breath before speaking again. “Or ye could live here with me. A lot of yer stuff is already here,” he motioned towards the corner.

“What do you mean my stuff is already here?”

“When I went to yer apartment to break up with Laoghaire, we got into a huge fight over you. I knew she must have said a lot of things to ye that weren’t necessarily true in order to get the reaction and result she wanted. When she finally told me everything she had said, well… I knew ye wouldna be going back there. So I went back later that day with John to box the rest of yer things up and we brought them here for ye so ye wouldn’t have to.”

Claire felt her throat tighten suddenly, tears rushing to her eyes as she listened to what he had done for her. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep them from falling. She stared at him in wonder, her voice shaky when she spoke. “You did all of that for me?”

“Aye, Sassenach. I would do anything for you.”

She let out a choked laugh, wiping at her eyes. “I kept telling you I didn’t want to see you anymore. Wouldn’t it have been a little awkward to have to tell me you took all of my stuff?”

He pulled her close to him, kissing away the tears that had slipped down her cheeks. “Geillis was on her way out when we got there. She had my plaid hanging out of the bag she was holding. Knowing ye wanted it with ye, well… that gave me hope, Sassenach.”

She reached up to kiss him, her full lips landing soundly on his. She cradled his face in her hands, bringing him as close as possible, pressing their mouths together once more before hugging him tightly. “I mean this in the best possible way… you are unbelievable.”

His chest rumbled beneath her before he pulled back slightly. “Is that a yes?”

She hesitated, considering her words. “Jamie, aren’t you worried we would be moving too fast? We haven’t done any of this the way you’re supposed to.”

“Who gets to decide the way things are  _ ‘supposed to be’ _ other than us? I think we’ve both done things the so called “right way” before, Claire, and it didna work out. I ken this may seem fast, but I dinna want to spend another moment away from you. If ye’re not ready, though, I understand and I’ll help ye look for yer own place.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, turning her head to look around his bedroom. Her eyes moved from the stack of boxes containing her things to his dresser  _ (dark stained wood, a small tray holding watches sitting on top) _ and finally to his bed, the comforter and pillows neatly tucked in and made.

She met his gaze, his eyes watching her intently. “Do I get a few of those drawers?” she nodded towards the dresser, watching as understanding dawned on his face.

His eyes lit up, a broad smile appearing instantly on his lips. “Aye, as many as ye need.”

“And space in the closet?”

He nodded his assent, his hands pushing her sweater up to run along the skin just above her jeans, bending his head to cover her mouth with his own. She kissed him soundly, both of them smiling into each other’s lips before she mumbled against him again.

“And you won’t complain when it’s freezing outside and I shove my cold feet under your legs in bed and make you use flannel sheets?”

He tugged at the bottom of her sweater, her arms coming up to let him pull it over her head as he threw it on the floor behind them. “I  _ love _ flannel sheets,” he said, starting to move her back towards the bed.

She reached for the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with his buckle and button. “Liar,” she laughed. “You’re like a living furnace.”

His hands stilled for a moment before drawing her in to stand between his legs when he sat down on the mattress. “Even so. Does this mean ye’ll move in with me?”

There was no hesitation in her answer.

“Yes,” she said firmly, letting out a shriek when Jamie grabbed her by the waist, lifting her over him to lay next to him on the bed. She couldn’t stop giggling as he started peppering her mouth and face with kisses, the stubble of his beard scratching and tickling her skin.

“God, this feels like a dream,” he whispered. “You’ve made me happier than I could have ever imagined, Sassenach.”

“Will you still feel that way when my clothes are everywhere and I’ve made this place a mess?”

“Mm, if yer clothes are everywhere, that means they’re no’ on you, so  _ yes _ .”

“You know, for someone who keeps saying they want me naked, I seem to have a lot of clothes on still, as do you,” she raised an eyebrow at him, a hint of challenge in her voice.

“Are ye saying ye want to christen our bedroom?”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. “Well, you did promise to love me all night long and it seems like a good place to start…”

“Aye, I did. I wouldna want to disappoint.” The grin that spread across his face was slow  _ (easy), _ his fingers moving to the button of her jeans, Claire letting out a blissful sigh as he worked them over her hips, his hands sliding along her bottom and then down her skin as he pulled them off, his own following right after.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

He chuckled against the inside of her thigh, moving up her body to tenderly stroke the hair back from her face, planting a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. He spoke quietly, his eyes locked with hers, whisky on blue, pure joy and hope reflected in them.

“Welcome home, Sassenach.”

She placed a hand on his heart, bringing one of his down to rest on her own  _ (beating steadily only for him), _ her words sure and steady as she spoke, tears springing back up in the corners of her eyes as she watched him.

“I love you.”

His eyes turned glassy as he blinked rapidly, a smile that she hoped would be ever-present lighting up his face. “I love you, too.”

_ the end (of part one). _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of part one of this story. I want to say thank you to everyone who has read and left a comment on this story. I read all of them and they mean so much to me!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is named after the Selena Gomez song "Back To You." Each chapter title uses a song lyric that is reflective of what happens in that chapter. This is an ongoing story I've been posting on tumblr, but decided to cross-post here after I had several requests to do so. I hope you enjoy reading it! XO.


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